Bad Bromance
by Juneblue
Summary: Fem!NaruSasu. Whatever bromance they shared, melts away the morning Naruto wakes up a woman. With Sasuke's help, Naruto searches a way to transform back—especially before his martial arts tournament.
1. Transformation

Disclaimer: This story is for entertainment purposes and not for any profit. I do not own Naruto.

Warnings: Gender bender, sexual themes, explicit sexual content, humiliation, some dark humor, angst, and violence. SLOW BUILD.  
_This story starts as friendship. The Fem!NaruSasu occurs later._

**Chapter One**

**Transformation**

* * *

Sun. Glorious sun.

Sinking into his room like a soothing perfume, awakening his senses.

"_Yo Naruto, you awake yet? I can't find the soap?_" yelled a familiar voice through the thick haze of morning dreams. "_I guess you're still sleeping…"_

He wiggled his toes and tossed frustratingly under the covers.

"Just look harder," he scarcely murmured over the spell of slumber.

"_...so I'm going to shower first then."_

Unusual as it is, he felt every inch of his body, and how hot did the bed feel underneath him, he almost gasped. However, with eyes still shut Naruto flopped onto his stomach, assuming his most preferred sleeping position. At least get in another hour of sleep. Please, he begged his burning body.

That's when he felt it. The dull chest pain which catapulted his mind to full consciousness—the pain! Suffocating pain. Quickly, he veered off the bed, falling to the floor in fetal position.

"D-damn it," he choked, clutching at his sides.

His hips. His waist. As soon as he'd touched them, his eyes shot wide open.

_No…_

Only wearing his boxers, Naruto froze in horror. Blood stopped, time stopped, breaths stopped, his muscles stiffened. No longer did physical pain matter. Not when _two balloons_ protruded from his chest, much like the plump breasts of the women he'd seen before. Breasts! _Hooters, bazongas, tatas, twangers_…

Panicking, Naruto hyperventilated. "Shit...shit!" he shot up from the floor, swaying as he did so. "Shit, someone help!"

He fell backwards right into his nightstand, knocking his clock to the ground—which shattered into fragments…time…time fell apart both physically and figuratively…

_Wake up¸ wake up_! Naruto panted involuntarily, world spinning as his very heart clenched. Nightmare, this had to be a nightmare. His legs weren't his legs, his feet weren't his feet, his hair—wasn't his short hair! But terribly long, golden locks fluttering like fronds in the wind.

Screaming, Naruto pulled at this _fake_ hair. When he realized the hair wasn't fake, he screamed even louder. And when he heard a woman's voice instead of his own, Naruto's throat clogged up with horror. This couldn't possibly be a prank, but a dream. Not a prank, not a dream, but a nightmare!

"Who are you?" cried out a terrified voice.

Kiba. His roommate.

Naruto's eyes widened, and reached out an arm. "K-Kiba, you gotta help me man. I feel sick. I'm hallucinating…" he croaked, still hearing that shaky high-pitched feminine voice speak for him. "I'm seeing things, hearing things, feeling things…I think I might need the ER."

Wordlessly, Kiba stared at him.

And that pissed Naruto off. "_Kiba! _Stop standing there, for hell's sake! I need _help_!"

"H-how do you know me?" stammered Kiba, whose mouth hung agape the whole time.

Naruto's mouth went dry. Not only was the world spinning, but now his own roommate made him sick. "What the hell kind of question is that "how do I know you"?! Open your damned eyes. I'm Naruto, your roommate. Stop messing around with me!"

"You're not Naruto."

"Yes! Yes, I am, you...don't be an asshole!" he shouted, but instead, a shrill girly voice bounced off the walls of their apartment. This perturbed Naruto himself, who felt a jolt of terror in his spine. "Okay, this shit's getting real. I can't. Call 9-1-1. Not myself. I think I'm dying."

At that moment, Kiba's eyes roamed downwards and locked with the perfect plump mounds he'd ever seen in his life. Pale, pink rosy buds, so aroused and pert. And the round breasts swelling up into ripe fruits—the sight of paradise itself, when looking upon the thin waist, wide hips…Kiba swallowed hard. Was this Naruto's new lay? Sister? Girlfriend? Like a spell, he stood transfixed, motionless.

Clenching his fists, Naruto bolted forward, wrenching Kiba by the collar. "What are you staring at, huh?"

"Put on a shirt, please," begged Kiba, eyes still glued to the nude female parts.

"So you're seeing what I'm seeing?"

Kiba blinked. Unsure, he mumbled, "I'm sorry I walked in on you. I heard you scream for help and didn't realize you were partially naked…"

"Who cares," snapped Naruto, confused at his roommate's humility and shame, "we see each other shirtless all the time. Why is your…nose bleeding?"

Violently, Kiba pulled away and in a frantic tone said hurriedly, "Sit down, I'll bring you some clothes."

_So I'm not seeing things?_ Naruto rubbed his eyes, before gazing down at his own body. Breasts, curves, long slender legs…radiating blond hair to his hips…this was all real? That even his sober roommate saw?

In the next second, Kiba handed him an orange t-shirt, and similarly grapefruit colored shorts. "This is Naruto's smallest sized outfit I could find."

Naruto glared at his friend, willing for some understanding. "Yes, _my clothes_. Kiba, man are you even listening to me?"

When he didn't get a coherent response, he just donned his shirt and shorts. But at his midriff, the shirt felt too tight, and he quickly realized why. The breasts. Inflated as they were, pressed against the fabric.

Finally, he looked back at Kiba before saying, "You really don't recognize me?"

"You have his eyes," murmured Kiba, melting at the melodic voice of this beautiful stranger. "Are you related?"

Sighing, Naruto ignored the question. Logic or quick wit wouldn't save him now. No special words or reasoning. This absurd calamity eviscerated his heart and nausea swept him like a furious wave, he thought he'd been disemboweled—while his mind collapsed into confusion. He ran to his closet, rummaging around before slipping into a pair of white sneakers: apparently he dropped down several foot sizes. He almost spat. This was hell itself, wasn't it?

"H-hey," said Kiba, moving after the blonde. "You're leaving?"

"You're being a useless friend," growled Naruto, diving into the bathroom.

"But you said you need an ambulance!"

Voices drowned out. Looking into his reflection, Naruto barely swallowed down his tension.

_Who is this?_

He patted his bangs aside. Annoyingly pretty Barbie doll tresses framed his face—which seemed more cherubic than before. He lost his defined jawline, and his neck elongated into that of a graceful swan's, blending into delicate shoulders: no longer broad and manly. Of course his gaze dropped to the hard nipples peeking through his orange shirt…he couldn't blame Kiba for stumbling…

But if there's one person in this world who'd recognize him, and still treat him as Naruto, it'd be…

* * *

"Uchiha-san, there's a visitor for you," said the secretary, concerned.

Sasuke looked up from his work, before casually saying, "No visitors right now. Unless by appointment."

At the cold dismissal, the man stood as if torn by a dilemma. "But sir, she is claiming to be your friend Naruto. And I've tried numerous times to send her away, but she won't have any of it."

"Then call for security," he said annoyed, reaching for the phone on his desk. "Or rather, I'll do it myself."

The secretary nodded before disappearing out the door.

After making the short call, he leaned back into his chair. Rubbing his temples, Sasuke felt unable to continue with work. For some reason, whenever his brother Itachi traveled away to the countryside on religious journeys, he always experienced turbulence here during office hours. Just last month, during Itachi's two week absence, a flock of pigeons were seen dancing on the rooftop of their company building. And prior to that, was the one time a blind mendicant who came barreling through the glass windows in the main lobby—causing such a horrific scene, police and news reporters made sure to inscribe the moment forever in tabloids.

"S-sir, I tried—"

"Let me through damn it!"

The door blasted open. Naruto whirled in like a heated ball of lightning. "Sasuke you bastard don't you dare call security on me!"

When Sasuke met the electric eyes of the blonde, he literally shot up. "Naruto?"

"Yeah, we need to talk. Alone."

The two guards and secretary quickly left the office as soon as Sasuke signaled for them to leave. He then turned to the woman who so much resembled his best friend, he wondered if Naruto was wearing a wig and fake breasts…however, not only was the disguise too perfect, but the feminine whines and sounds reminded him of anything but Naruto.

Sasuke sized up the ruffled figure with growing perplexity. "Why are you…"

"A woman?" finished Naruto, in a deadpan.

"You're embarrassing me, dressed like this—"

"_Damn it Sasuke_! I'm not dressed like anything. None of this is fake," he gestured at his obvious chest, and then his hair, "Either I'm still dreaming, or this is real. And by now I'm realizing it's the second. I woke up….like this…"

Dark shadows crossed the pale features. "I haven't any time for your games, idiot. And besides, don't you have an appointment with your academic advisor today? You have to register for your classes. But instead you come to annoy me with your usual pranks."

"A prank?! Think I'd joke about losing my manhood? Come on!" yelled Naruto, jumping forward, cheeks burning crimson. "I'm the one embarrassed! This isn't me and I hate every second I'm in this body!"

The high-pitched shouts definitely struck Sasuke into a spell; rooted to the spot, his dark gaze penetrated through the shrouds of confusion. Sasuke pursed his lips in deep calculation, never removing his sight off the glowing blue orbs.

And in the sudden silence, Naruto gulped. What if Sasuke didn't believe him? Then what. Then he'd die right then and there, for his heart already fluttered like a drum. A dry funeral drum: playing the sad majestic melody of the end of his life. Because being alone at this point equaled death, and all he had was…Sasuke…his best friend…

Finally he heard Sasuke coolly remark, "You came all the way here dressed like that?"

Naruto looked down upon himself and then back up, with brows furrowed. "Huh?"

"Everyone can see your…" Sasuke trailed off, sounding rather put off. "Female attributes…"

"Seriously, that's the last damned thing I'm worried about!" Naruto cried out, panting from humiliation. "Just s-shit. Do you even believe me?" he asked with an edge of helplessness.

That's when Sasuke stepped back, sending an incredulous look. "I'm not sure what to believe…"

"That I'm _Naruto_, your best friend since the first grade—I drew you an action comic about ninjas back in elementary school, which you still keep in your room under your nightstand! Our number one pastime back in junior high was cutting recess and exploring the city—" Naruto heaved a breath before launching further down memory lane, "We used to be sparring partners on the high school fencing team, and our sensei was Killer Bee. He always smelled like sweat and deodorant, and I always made fun of his _whack_ raps: and you always laughed at my impressions of our teachers. But while I went on to martial arts living my fantasy of fighting, you instead studied business. You said…you wanted to follow your father's steps—"

"Enough…Naruto," murmured Sasuke, turning away. "It is you. I can almost hear your real voice."

No words can describes the jubilation and relief which flooded him in that moment. Naruto scrambled closer, almost wobbling over from his adrenaline rush and the oversized sneakers which hardly encased his feet.

"No one else believes me except for you. I—I almost knocked Kiba out for _his_ helpful gestures. While my own godfather didn't recognize me…and if he did, he sure as hell didn't want to admit it," he rambled on, flushing from the heat of panic, "and, and…I'm bugging out, what can I say? I don't know why this happened, and how can I turn back?"

Gently, Sasuke ushered his frantic friend onto the leather couch by the window. "There's no point in panicking, moron. Sit down and breathe."

"My life is over…" groaned Naruto, dropping into the cushioned seat as if sapped.

"Let me think for a moment."

For a tense minute, Sasuke paced around the room becoming tight and internalized. He moved fluidly across the area, resting his chin in the palm of a pale hand. During this whole time, Naruto's eyes followed his friend's form wide with expectation. Until finally, he became too nervous with the silence, and pleaded: "Can you think aloud?"

And thus, with the air of an experienced logician, Sasuke began to think out loud. "I don't know any illness that generates onset gender transformation—an overnight growth of hair, and…other characteristics. Going to a doctor would be pointless."

"Right," agreed the blond, nodding.

"Since I see your physical changes, I know this isn't an illness of your imagination. So, a psychiatrist would also be useless."

With another slow nod, Naruto agreed.

Their eyes met, when another idea struck Sasuke. "Therefore if physical and mental domains are ruled out—I'm left to suspect a spiritual reason behind this."

A…spiritual reason? Naruto scowled at the absurd ring to it. "What'ya mean a spiritual reason? Come on, even I don't buy that."

But when Naruto thought harder on the subject: truly, nothing else could explain his sudden transformation. There's no poison in the world that causes a gender change! No disease! His DNA couldn't mutate into a different sex. And he didn't have a psychosis or delusion, and he certainly didn't have a sex operation. So if nothing on Earth could elucidate the mystery, then maybe Heaven could.

Sasuke added on to his conclusion, "Tonight my brother returns from his religious journey. When he sees you, we'll find out exactly what happened."

At that, Naruto buried face into his hands. "Itachi will see me like this…are you sure he'll even believe the situation? Are you sure he can even fix me?"

"He's inherited the family's special power and tradition," answered Sasuke, voice smooth and cold, "he can see with a sixth sense and dedicates almost all of his time maintaining our shrine and meditating. With that said, I think Itachi has seen much worse than your female form."

"B-but..."

"And if he can't fix you, or at least tell me who can, then I really do think this is a hopeless situation."

Head snapping up, Naruto looked up into the dark gaze. "No. This can't be hopeless. I need to return to my normal self because I can't imagine it any other way, I just can't!" his voice quivered, but that's because he couldn't control his new feminine larynx very well. "I'll wait right here until your brother gets back."

A long tense silence passed as Sasuke stood by him, gazing out the window with a wistful countenance. Biting his tongue, Naruto avoided further complaining at all costs, afraid to interrupt Sasuke's deep thought.

"You can't miss your appointment," muttered Sasuke lowly, still looking through the glass. "I'll drive you to campus and help you register for your classes."

"But Sasuke, no! Holy hell, no. I can't start my first year as a—as a _woman_!"

Without sparing the petulant blond a glance, Sasuke continued in that same hollow remote tone, "You're emphasizing on this temporary condition too much, moron. Think long-term because once this blows over, you'll at least be a student for the upcoming semester."

"Wait. Can you just—just call and reschedule the appointment for another day!"

Sasuke garroted him with a chilling stare. "You already pushed back the date two times before. That means today is the you have to go."

Damn it, how true it was; and while he felt flabbergasted at the troubling dilemma he also felt waves of relief, and very reassured at how Sasuke intimated the details of his life. Even in this crisis, Naruto relaxed in the other's executive presence. He always admired Sasuke's confidence and sharp mind, as well as what seemed to be an infinite reservoir of knowledge—however he doubted Sasuke could understand how terrible it felt to have your life ripped out of your hands…

And so sighing with sorrow, Naruto tightened his muscles before following Sasuke out the door. Head hung in shame, he hardly managed, "I can't go like this."

"You can."

Sasuke's silky voice echoed in the stairwell, as they both descended several flights rapidly.

Speeding up after him, Naruto caught up and walked alongside him. "I mean, you said it yourself," he whispered quickly, "I'm not dressed right. I look terrible_._" Of course anything that didn't match his true form felt terrible so he described, "My hair is a damned nuisance, my feet are too small, and I seriously cringe every time I hear myself."

Sasuke glanced at him appraisingly. "I wouldn't say you look…terrible."

Freezing, Naruto's feet transfixed onto the marble floor. For some reason the words comforted him and as soon as he gathered his senses again, he chased after Sasuke, who at that point glided across the parking lot.

"Geez, hold the hell up," cried Naruto, scarcely able to run in these oversized sneakers. "Wait!"

Coming to a halt in front of his car, Sasuke smirked. He opened the passenger seat and in a smooth voice said, "Ladies first."

Scowling, Naruto dived into the seat but not before threatening, "You get a warning, bastard. Don't ever joke about this again…"

Sasuke simply shut the door, making his way around into the driver's seat. Smirk still intact.

As soon as the car had entered the highway, Naruto immediately noticed the peculiar route, which was not to his university but to somewhere else altogether. Confused, he demanded, "Where are we going?"

"We'll be making a quick stop before your appointment."

"Where?"

After a moment of consideration, Sasuke answered, "Haruno's."

"_What!_" Naruto felt himself turn into fire, and his heart wildly pounded in his ears. "We can't go to Sakura-chan's!"

Swerving the car off into the exit, Sasuke remained quiet but surely focused on their destination. While Naruto flailed like a patient with an aneurism. "Sasuke I refuse. I don't care what logical reason there is, I _can't let her see me like this_."

"So then don't let her think you're Naruto," came the cool reply.

"How?"

"It's very easy to believe you're someone else. Because you're not the same anymore. So pick a new story about your new identity," Sasuke explained in a clipped manner, as he parked the car into a tight space.

That wrenched his lungs and diaphragm apart, and he had difficulty breathing. "I'm still the same person, come on Sasuke. You know that, right? She's going to know it too. And I can't face her reaction when she sees it, so please, whatever the reason we're here…can't we find another way…"

"I understand completely. But right now, there's no other way."

With that, Sasuke removed himself out of the vehicle, and without waiting for Naruto's accompaniment, waltzed up to the porch of a humble home.

Grumbling, Naruto twisted out as well and slammed the door shut. Right away, he smelled the fresh trees, dewy fresh cut grass, and he almost felt happy to be alive. Even the sun shone down with such modest heat, he smiled feeling his skin glow. Until he remembered the disaster which struck him, and now, all this beautiful nature can go to hell; for he might as well be in a junkyard smelling fish, and his mood couldn't sour any more than it has now.

In the meantime, Sasuke had been waiting by the front door under the shade. When a familiar pink-haired woman appeared before him, he greeted her with a, "Haruno-san, nice to see you."

"O-oh, Sasuke-kun! Just call me Sakura," she blanched, terrified as if she'd seen a ghost. "I got your message on my e-mail, but I didn't think you'd be here so quickly. I didn't even get a chance to prepare!"

Schooling an impassive expression, he stepped forward. "I apologize for contacting you so late."

Sakura fluttered her eyelashes through anxious reflexes. "No, it's so pleasant to hear from you at all that I really wouldn't have minded even if you contacted me at midnight," she admitted. "Would you like to come inside?"

"I'm with a friend of a friend," explained Sasuke, pointing back to Naruto, who had apparently been stationed stubbornly by the car. "If it wouldn't burden you, may she join us?"

Slightly bewildered, Sakura looked past her handsome idol, training her gaze onto the blonde lady in orange. "Why is she standing so far away?" asked Sakura, "and no…I don't mind if she came in."

When he turned to look back at Naruto, he narrowed his dark eyes threateningly. To which of course, Naruto wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms in defiance.

Vexation rose up his throat like bile, but Sasuke held such a reaction in check. Looking back at Sakura, he said, "She's very shy. Did you know you've been her role model for several years now?"

"Oh…my goodness, wow!" Sakura gasped, genuinely intrigued. "Well, I'll just fetch her myself since you can't properly introduce us."

Watching with veiled amusement, Sasuke tilted his head up, as Sakura scurried over to the blond. Before anyone knew it Naruto was dragged into the house by Sakura's persistent, strong grip. She led them through the foyer and had them remove their shoes by the coatrack.

"I'll make some tea, so please get comfortable," she chirped, beckoning them into the cozy living room.

Left alone for a moment, Naruto angrily whirled onto Sasuke. "You knew damn well I didn't want to come in here. She…she's going to recognize me right away, and I'll…die…"

"Admit it. She didn't recognize you at all, and she will never see through that new body of yours."

The words rammed him like a heavy boulder. He dropped into the sofa. "She'll see through, just watch…and it'll be your fault." His voice cracked at the last part. "She'll know it's me. And I might as well join the circus in my boxers, because I'm never going to be any more damned humiliated than this."

Clattering of plates sounded from the nearby kitchen.

Holding his breath, Naruto scarcely swallowed down the shame threatening to overtake him. He heard Sasuke tell him, "She doesn't recognize you. Do not push any buttons. Don't even try. Let me make up a story for you, and play along. Understood?"

Naruto ground his teeth. "Don't even know why we're here. Better have a good reason, you bastard."

_Click. Tap. Clatter. Tap._

Sakura entered the scene, balancing a tray of her finest tea set. The ceramics sounded at each bounce of her stride, while she masterfully cut across the living room. Once she set everything upon a cozy wooden table, she turned to Sasuke delightfully.

"I prepared green tea with jasmine," and then focusing on Naruto, she raised a brow, "are you alright, you seem pale."

"I-I'm fine," said Naruto, avoiding eye contact.

With incredible speed, she darted over to his side. Palpating his forehead, she mentioned, "You're awfully clammy, dear. Are you sure you're fine? I can bring some medicine out for you."

Surprised at her kindness, Naruto fidgeted. "I'm fine. But thanks Sakura-chan—I mean—I mean Haruno-san."

At that point, Sasuke intervened by handing Naruto a cup of steaming green tea. Gladly, he snatched the drink out of his friend's hands, and made himself occupied. Awkward, awkward, awkward…

"Did you read my message completely, Haruno-san?"

"Oh, Sasuke-kun, please just call me Sakura," she begged before adding, "Yes. I did. I can't believe I haven't met Naruto's dearest cousin from the States."

Naruto almost spat out the tea in his mouth. _What_….

"I'm confused why Naruto isn't here himself to introduce me…that idiot!"

"He's got his appointment for class scheduling today," said Sasuke coolly.

"I see." She nodded slowly, sitting beside the nervous blonde. With a smile, she inquired lightly, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart? How come she'd never called him that before?

"Naru—" he automatically uttered before petrifying wholly, mouth agape.

Even Sasuke's chilling gaze stunned him to silence, staring at him with penetrating force. Time stopped.

"_So then don't let her think you're Naruto…" … _

_How?_

"…_pick a new story about your new identity…"_

He had to listen to Sasuke. "Naruko," he finished…lamely.

"Naruko-san, it's so nice meeting you. You must be so exhausted. No wonder you're clammy, you need rest…" Sakura clapped her hands together and shook her head in sorrow, "I am so sorry about your loss."

"My loss?" he echoed.

"Yes, Sasuke-kun told me that during your flight transfer, they lost your luggage. That's literally been my nightmare when I travel," Sakura rambled, "So you're definitely welcome to borrow some of my clothes."

Oh hell. Naruto bit his lip before sucking in a shaky breath. "I…uh…appreciate that…?"

"Come upstairs with me, I'll show you what I have. And you can pick whichever you like!"

He didn't really have a choice. As soon as he indicated reluctance, Sakura practically man-handled him up to her room, vibrating with excitement: the giddy energy, from whence he knew not. Though her eyes beamed and she repeatedly said he shouldn't be shy around her, as she'd love to help. But the moment they entered her private sleeping quarters, his mouth went dry.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" he asked, nearly stammering.

Ignoring the question, Sakura gestured to her grand closet hidden behind a moving wall-mirror. "What's your shoe size?"

"I think six…?"

"Oh wonderful, we both have small feet! And bra size?"

Bra size? He almost gasped. "I…I'm not sure."

"What? How can you not know?"

_Great going, moron_: he almost could imagine Sasuke say. "Never wore one before," he explained, thinking it might be a sound answer.

Sakura stared at him. After a moment he heard her say under her breath, "Hm, must be an American thing."

Several minutes of suggestions and recommendations passed, Sakura tossing everything she believed would fit Naruto on the bed. Strapless bras, leopard printed bras, long dresses, frilly skirts, classy chic blouses, and even pantyhose.

This couldn't be happening. He didn't want to even look twice at all these clothes—not when it was for _him_. He'd much rather see the garments modeled on a girl, rather; and oh how Sasuke must be so smug right now, entertained at the very idea of his boiling humiliation. "Sakura-chan," he whispered, "that's enough, really. I don't want so much."

"Nonsense, a girl can't have too many clothes."

But I'm not a girl, his mind screamed. "I don't even think I'll wear any of this…" he said honestly. "I'll just wear—"

"Naruko-san!" snapped Sakura, voice stern, "You'd rather wear Naruto's basketball shorts and baggy t-shirts? I'm offended, you must really think I have poor taste!"

Naruto buried his reddening face into his hands. "I didn't mean that. At all. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," dismissed she, striding out of the room, "I'll be downstairs with Sasuke-kun. Just try on the clothes I picked out for you. So put whatever you end up liking in that bag by the bed. Okay?"

"Okay."

_Click_. Sakura left the room.

He let out an explosive sigh. Walking over to the clothes pile, he gave it a glance over before telling the pretty dresses and skirts, "_I refuse to try you on_."

So, with that said, he shoved them all in the bag. So when Sakura came back in, she'd see how he thought of her taste in clothes—not leaving a single garment behind, hoping she'd interpret that as how much he "adored" her style. As for the pertinent attire, shoes, he first surveyed for the most comfortable looking pair, and upon finding flat sandals with a glittering blue floral accessory, he cried _eureka, _and slid his bare feet into them. Tapping his newly clad foot in nervous contemplation, he let his eyes roam around for a while.

Next vital piece must be the bra, he assessed with impatience. As soon as he took a bra into his hands, he stared at it confused. How do you put it on? Clasp it first and then pull it over your head? And which clasp? There's three. As if the questions bogged his mind, he sat down on the bed, mulling over the details.

"I'll just—I'll clasp it on the third, not a big deal."

Twisting his t-shirt off first, he then began the arduous task of donning an already clasped bra. "D-damn it! I'll try it on the first. Might be easier."

He attempted another shot, with painstaking effort, and his blond hair kept getting caught—but he managed to put it on. Only to feel the dull, uncomfortable pain of the peculiar tightness he felt. It'll disappear, he figured.

And thus, in orange basketball shorts, t-shirt, and sandals that actually fit him, he hoisted the bag of clothes out of the room. When he entered the living room once again, he met with Sasuke's bored gaze.

"Naruko-san you didn't even try anything on, did you?" Sakura accused, appearing very disappointed. "Sasuke-kun would you mind waiting for a little bit, I'll go upstairs with her, and get her out of that shell."

Sasuke looked at his watch to emphasize his point. "Ten more minutes. I have somewhere to be."

"That'll be plenty of time!"

Dragged back up to the closet of hell, Naruto nearly cursed under his breath. And to Sasuke's chagrin, they didn't come down in ten minutes, nor in fifteen, but a painstaking twenty. He sighed.

* * *

The whole time he glared at Sasuke. This torture, this level of discomfort. All Sasuke's damned idea!

"That was unnecessary, jerk," he ground out, unable to suppress the anger anymore. "She had me literally try on almost her whole wardrobe."

To which, Sasuke ignored, and instead rather plainly said, "She was more helpful than I imagined her to be."

"This isn't going to work," he seethed, stomping across campus. "They're not going to register me, because I'm not Naruto anymore!"

"They won't care about your gender, you're still Naruto Uzumaki, legally."

"No. Legally, Naruto Uzumaki is a boy."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes before coming to an abrupt halt. "What's the deepest voice you can make?"

Stopping suddenly, Naruto blinked. "Ahem!" he coughed, concentrating on dropping several octaves, "My name is Naruto and I like ramen_...is this deep enough?_"

"Hardly…" A pause. "But if your advisor is stupid, he'll believe it."

"Really? So I'll just hide my hair, and wear another shirt on top."

"Another shirt, moron won't hide—"

But Naruto already dove into the school store. A shop selling university merchandise and gear. Everyone present in the store had their attention riveted onto the blonde woman, especially the clerk, who followed with his eyes the whole time.

When he came to check out a navy blue cap and a bright yellow loose shirt, Naruto nervously foraged his pockets. He hadn't brought any money with him.

"Thirty three," said the clerk, sizing up the beauty before him. "But if you want, I can…"

In that moment, Sasuke reached forward with the exact amount of cash. Naturally, Naruto thanked him for the gesture, but he quickly saw the poorly masked anger flashing underneath the pale skin. Was Sasuke mad at him for impulsively buying clothes?

"She's yours?" asked the clerk slyly, but with an air of sharp contempt.

"A friend."

"Right," came the sarcastic dismissal. "Next."

They left the store thereafter. Naruto busied his hands with fitting all his hair into and underneath the cap. "Hey Sasuke, tell me, do I look convincing?"

Still annoyed from the store clerk, Sasuke only grunted in response.

"_Hey_," persisted the blond, fitting over the yellow shirt as well, "Come on, tell me! I look much better right?"

"You look the same," snapped the other, dark eyes thinning. "Nothing you wear will change anything."

"But you said I have a shot at getting my advisor to believe it, right?"

"Yes," he bit out. "But I doubt your advisor is a blind nitwit."

Glowing with hope, Naruto grinned. "Hey, you never know and that's good enough for me." He adjusted the hat one more time before adding, "You're right, Sasuke. This will blow over soon, so if I just pass this first trial, things will only get better."

Sasuke pretended indifference.

When they strode into the west building, Naruto began blathering, "Yeah tomorrow I'll be good as new. I remember you telling me Itachi's a legend in the sect. I'm not even worried anymore, because I know he'll have a fix for me. "

"What floor is the office on?" asked Sasuke, once again ignoring Naruto's repetitive divulgences.

"Eh, it's on the tenth I think. Hell, just wait here. I'll go up myself."

With that, Naruto dashed ahead and left his good friend behind in the magnificent halls of the main foyer. His adventure reached a point which requires solo effort, and a deep concentration overtook his whole being. Incognito. Mission: registration. Meeting astray glances of passerby, students, and various persons, Naruto tilted his cap further down, creating a shadow over his eyes. He darted up some several escalators in this fashion, hoping to attract no attention. And boy did it work.

Room seven. Dr. Hatake Kakashi: academic advisor and professor of cognitive psychology.

He knocked forcefully on the white door.

"Come in," he heard.

With pent up anxiety, he swung himself inside the office. "Hi," he greeted, while keeping his head down. This became his number one fear, and he felt so paranoid down to the very hairs on his skin.

"Naruto Uzumaki, correct?" came the lazy voice of the advisor.

"Yep, that's me!"

"Have a seat."

Naruto carefully moved for the chair, and slowly dropped into the seat vis-à-vis the professor. He noticed immediately that the man seemed preoccupied with reading a graphic novel of some sort on the plain desk separating them. Quirking an eyebrow, he squinted to see what the images on this novel were; and with the effort of his eyes, he captured….

Dr. Hatake snapped the book shut, and riveted his gaze onto Naruto. "Well, you came a little early. That's rather alright because I've been looking forward in meeting with you."

"Ah," he hummed automatically, as usual whenever you had nothing else to add.

"You stand out to me, Naruto. Your tuition is covered completely by a couple prestigious scholarships," The advisor elegantly moved up to adjust his glasses, and continued in a perfectly intrigued tone, "for your talents and record skill in the martial arts. Several dojos invested in your education…"

Naruto held back the itch to rub his head and hair. "Ah I was always interested from childhood and so I had a lot of practice. That's all."

"Hm," replied Kakashi, carefully eyeing Naruto's chest.

Freezing up, Naruto gulped when he perceived the focused stare. Until Kakashi finally said, "Isn't it pretty hot outside to be wearing so many layers of clothing?"

"I caught a cold, so no," he answered automatically.

"Hm. That could explain your peculiar voice."

Anxiety skyrocketed when he heard pen scratching over paper. He felt the hand of a ghost touch the back of his neck at the eerie sound. Seriously, just what was the advisor jotting down? Naruto felt his eyes almost bulge out of their sockets from the amount of intense strain he'd been experiencing.

"So, Naruto," hazarded Kakashi, eyes slanting up in some amusement, "Do you have any idea what you will be majoring in, or are you undecided for now?"

"I was thinkin' about studying art, just something easy while I train up for tournaments."

"Nothing's easy here," was the smooth reply. "But since you're undecided, we will focus on your pre-requisites for now."

Nodding in compliance he inquired, "Okay so what do you suggest I take?"

"I suggest you begin with the very basic. Expository writing, a basic science class, a general exposure requirement, and a class which we call an elective. In your case, I'd say either art history or film for your general requirement, while for science, go for introduction to psychology."

Naruto couldn't keep up with the lingo; man this advisor had no idea! "Uh-ah, yeah," he mumbled, lowering his head in bewilderment. "Yeah I agree."

Kakashi raised a brow, and with folded hands, leaned forward. "You agree with what?"

"What you said," he said instantly, turning rubicund. Did Dr. Hatake have to squeeze for confirmations constantly?

"Very well. I'll input this into the database. One moment."

All of a sudden, the printer roared to life and Naruto nearly jumped out of his seat. His startled response won an entertained glance from Kakashi who began saying, "You seem to be on edge."

"Me? On edge?" Naruto pointed back his thumb questioningly. "Far from it, sensei."

That's when he felt Kakashi's bespectacled gaze trail along his effeminate fingers, and then trace over his delicate tanned arms. Bristling, Naruto hugged his elbows and bought them to his chest. _I should have worn a turtle neck!_ As if the scrutiny weren't enough and more had to be seen to make some conclusion, Kakashi let his eyes roam downwards and in that moment, he felt his bare legs being ogled at. _I should have worn sweatpants_! He clamped his _womanly_ legs shut, pressing thighs together: for no man at the age of eighteen could have perfectly smooth, curvy extremities—and for a boy in the martial arts no less, Naruto hardly exhibited any muscle tone.

Oh how he wished he wore sweatpants and a turtle neck! How he wished for his advisor to be a blind nitwit like Sasuke described!

And now all is lost, for Kakashi Hatake definitely figured him out now if not before. What with his soft chin, cherubic face, poorly hidden plump chest, slender arms, supple thighs, and thin calves—there's no way—no way a doctor of Psychology would think he was anything but a female. It's all ove—

"If you say so," murmured the teacher, handing the printed paper over. "Get some rest, and I wish you have a speedy recovery."

As though a lightning bolt struck before him, Naruto froze completely in awe. He barely managed to utter, "Thank you."

And so, raising a nerve wrought hand for the paper, he was about to peel it off the desk when he felt a larger hand quickly cup over his. Naruto shot up a confused stare. However at once he saw the twinkle gleaming in his teacher's expression, and when he heard the words following soon after, he blanched.

"And the next time we meet, I should hope to see you as you truly are." Kakashi pulled back, a smirk passing imperceptibly.

Quickly, Naruto stumbled out of the office, paper in hand, but heart in his throat. Did his advisor know? Now more than ever he prayed for Itachi's medicine.


	2. Displacement

Chapter warnings: Light dub-con and mind control.

**Chapter Two**

**Displacement**

* * *

Eerie. Dim lit silence.

By the burning candle wicks, they sit equally immersed in the solemn air. Waiting.

"How do we know if he's even coming," urges Naruto, hugging his chest in impatience. "He's not picking up the phone and it's almost seven."

"It's not seven yet," adds Sasuke, in his usual bored tone.

Not seven yet! With one minute, or rather a half a minute ticking left, it already practically is seven. Naruto bites his lip. But just as he opens his mouth to fire a heated string of imprecations, the sound of a key turning interrupts him. Pounding pulse instantly swells his throat.

_Click. Twing_…

At once Sasuke goes out to greet his brother, while Naruto sits back immobilized by fear. This moment he's been waiting for, now crashes down like an avalanche, and all the icy anticipations freezes every fiber of his body. Imagine the moments in life when every possible worst case scenario flashes through the mind like blinding shines and anything sensible becomes drowned in fear—paralytic poisonous fear. He's sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office, waiting for a life or death verdict.

"Little brother," he heard Itachi's voice several paces away. "You seem very anxious."

"Waiting for your visit."

"Usually you don't. How are you?" Itachi's tone permeates the air, and reaches Naruto's ears like an ominous percussion. "I sense a guest in the house."

Naruto gulps, but fails to swallow the lump of dread.

With the gait of a calm wind, Itachi rounds the hall and into the living room. Every footstep sounding nearer and nearer, twisting Naruto's heart more and more. To the point Naruto gasps at the intrusion: suddenly feeling unready for this. Thus when their eyes met, he breathes with difficulty like a lead brick crushes his chest—hardly keeping composure against those narrow, omniscient dark orbs, even keener than Sasuke's piercing gaze. Hatless and donned in simple loose attire, Naruto's vulnerable to cross examination—an open book crying the dreadful denouement of identity loss.

Until a small smile passed Itachi's lips. So quickly, that it vanished when Sasuke entered the scene.

"You have a familiar air," murmurs Itachi, looking down upon the distressed woman in the room, "Have we met?"

He scrambles off the sofa in an attempt to gather himself properly. "Y-yes. Yes we have!"

"Ah," came the sage sound of revelation. "In different circumstances."

Yes, yes, yes! Naruto moves in closer. Itachi's this slot machine cashing out: millions. He almost confesses right then and there. That is, before Sasuke cuts in between them with a mask of scorn—silently warns Naruto not to overextend, with the wag of the brows. _But what's Sasuke worried about? Shouldn't we just get straight to the point?_

"Let's adhere to the schedule," demands Sasuke. And Naruto wants to cry out, what the fuck, because who gives a shit about schedule! "Dinner's been sitting on the table for the past hour, Itachi, because you wouldn't answer your phone."

Without removing his penetrating gaze off Naruto's wide doe eyes, Itachi replies rather tiredly, "You know during these times my phone is left off. I didn't purposefully ignore you, Sasuke." Then turning fluidly to his shorter sibling, he reassures further as if to cajole the child in Sasuke, "Forgive me little brother, how long have I made you wait? Or am I right to guess that it isn't hunger at all which unnerves you?"

Naruto bolts upright at the words. So Itachi must definitely know! And suddenly, Naruto's panting like he's at the finish line, so close. So damned close. But he trips over an unseen rock, and that rock, it's Sasuke. Sasuke stops the race, causes him to fall prostrate painfully. He'll never get the truth not when Sasuke's caught up with his personal brotherly feud.

"You're right, it's not dinner," affirms Sasuke, tilts his head up, as dark bangs overcast a shadow.

Itachi's eyes gloss over with practiced patience. Like the man's used to Sasuke's little quirks, little guessing games. This is how Sasuke gets his fill, though, by being vague and laconic so others will have to fill in the missing pieces. And Itachi is the only one who never seems to be aggravated by it, plays along like it's automatic. Except, Naruto bites his canines into the inside of his cheek because now, now's just not a good time. Not that Naruto ever goes along with Sasuke's games, only handles it differently than a patient, tolerating, loving brother would.

Pacing around the contemporary space, Itachi finally asserts, "There's some pent up burden, I noticed it immediately. Well since you leave me to guess…"

Both Sasuke and Naruto remain at loss for words while exchanging glances as Itachi inspects the room inch by inch. Sasuke's letting this game drag. For what. In response to Naruto's wavering blue eyes, Sasuke signs his confidence by nodding his head slightly. But was it that difficult for Sasuke to admit the problem? Is it something else, and if so will it stop him from getting Itachi's help? Naruto bristles at the idea.

"You moved this stand from its original location, Sasuke," Itachi remarks plainly, though his eyes gleamed with curiosity.

The random comment thrusts Sasuke in and out of deep brooding. "I did move it," he confirms.

Naruto looks upon the stand in question: and wrinkles his nose, as soon as he sees a boring piece of furniture, holding up nothing at all. When he squinted, the design of it looked slightly cool: a murky dark green metal coiled around each of the three pegs—kind of similar to snakes twisting around branches. But why are we talking about this. Sasuke, why, Naruto wants to burst out.

"Why did you move it?" inquires Itachi, sending an appraising glance.

"I vacuumed one day and set it aside, and never remembered to put it back."

"Actually this stand has been a family relic," murmurs the older brother, hinting extreme disapproval. "Simply forgetting about it is disrespectful, as well as a bad omen."

At this point, Sasuke truly felt crucified to the spot in embarrassment. "You're right."

"Remember though, the devil lies in all the details."

With that, Itachi hoists the family relic and moves it…to the opposite corner of the room. To which Naruto rubs the back of his neck, feeling himself displaced from the house rather than the relic. The stress from not screaming out his lungs bears down on his system like a carbon monoxide poisoning. So much fuss over a misplaced object, made no sense to him. He even observes his friend's reaction, and Sasuke actually appears to be very affected by Itachi's transient disappointment. Suppressing the urge to shout, '_Damn it Sasuke don't beat yourself over it, life move's on_', he squeezes his own burning temples.

This night already launched off at a bad start. Sasuke for starting the fucking shenanigans, and Itachi for not putting a stop to it. Does anybody care about his state? Does anyone give a shit that he's a woman? Or maybe this is a twilight dimension, and nobody here is real and that maybe he's still a man, just asleep and-and-

Dropping gently the object of attention in its appropriate place by the fireplace, Itachi gives a short sound of approval. "Already the energy is changing. Now I'm beginning to wonder what else I will find in this house because I do sense other distortions."

"Nothing else."

_Sasuke...why..._ Naruto's inner voice sounds so desperate, and he's training a desperate gaze too, inspecting his friend's profile for clues.

However, Itachi ignores the softening voice of his sibling, and places a hand on the nearest wall, closing his eyes while mouthing several words silently. Both Naruto and Sasuke exchange glances again, however this time, they watch curiously what the man was conjuring—for surely he seemed to be casting a spell. Especially with how Itachi's one of those that possesses special abilities, the kind which makes him naturally slightly unorthodox.

In that moment, right when they lean forward in anticipation, Itachi's eyes flutter open and under long lashes he entreats, "My dearest little brother be truthful to me, have you maintained the family shrine?"

"I did as you said," answers Sasuke.

"Yes but do tell me—when did you last enter the shrine?"

"Yesterday night…" he describes cautiously, afraid another devil were to lie in the details. "I went in, cleansed the well, and read the prayers. After that I sealed the door with what you gave me."

Itachi's eyes briefly drifts to Naruto. "Perfect, almost perfect…except for a single minute detail." Some pitying, sympathetic smile overtook his expression. "I specifically reminded you to attend on the night of a new moon, and you instead attended on a…"

"Full moon," finishes Sasuke, eyes widening. "I didn't even realize. I'm sorry—"

"No need," cuts in Itachi, voice perfectly tranquil that it irkes the both of them. "A mistake such as this, as you'll see, is beyond a simple apology."

The way the words resonate in the air, sends a shiver down their spines.

Tearing away from the wall, Itachi glides across the room once more. He passes his brother and only stops before Naruto's frozen figure. "Very much beyond a simple apology," repeates Itachi, like a faint echo. "However isn't the saying, 'it's okay to make mistakes, as long as they're learned'?"

Feeling the question directed to him, finally, Naruto nods eagerly. "Yeah it's part of life. Live and learn, buddy."

"Even though our lives may be reduced to a simple trial and error process," muses Itachi, tone remote despite the gleam of his eyes. "Mistake after mistake, lesson after lesson, and suppose with each passing mistake and each passing lesson learned, we can never prepare or learn enough to prevent the next mistake. Can you imagine?"

Naruto scratches his head, sheepishly smiling. "Heh, guess we're inevitably idiots for bothering. But…if something fails try something else, right? Hell, try _anything_—it's better than nothing. Even if the next situation is different, that's why life can be so interesting."

"You have a very pleasant mindset." Itachi glows with intrigue, maybe getting to the real problem at hand. "I usually pose the question to assess a person's self-worth, which ultimately brings out one's inner peace."

"Well I try not to beat myself like some dead horse, ya know? No need to hit the wall after one mistake, we're all vulnerable to it…"

"My brother, on the other hand, still has ways to go. Meditation and the right perspective can help him achieve peace, but you seem to be a good influence. A true friend, I feel."

Sasuke clenches his teeth so tightly, that Naruto can hear it grind. As his brother chose to ignore him, speaking as if he didn't exist, Sasuke simmers. As always. And now to make matters worse, he felt as if he were getting talked down at in front of a friend. Since automatically his system interpreted 'peace' as some kind of contest and he was now deemed an inferior candidate? Unable to bite down the agonizing feeling of repudiation, Sasuke burns a note in his mind to improve his "inner-peace" later. If that will bolster him up in his brother's eyes.

"Itachi," Sasuke churns out as respectfully as possible, but anyone with ears and hearing could sense the acidity in his usually cool voice, "I'm not perfect when it comes to religious dealings. If you asked for anything else, I wouldn't fail you."

"Yes, if it were anything else. I don't doubt it," says Itachi, very much mollifying the child in Sasuke. He cranes an elegantly exposed neck to look back at his younger brother.

Expression blank as paper, Sasuke steps even further away once the eye contact he sought for was established. He suppresses all rebuffs. Though a deep part of him claws from within and between his ribs. Retaliate and demonstrate just how 'peaceful' he can be; and yet, none of the accusatory words comes to the surface of his lips. For he values family, and his older brother too, and his dilemma burned in the pit of the stomach like a smothered fire. After all he shouldn't be this affected, not when Itachi humbly admitted he was perfect! But, the way it was said, certainly sounded like criticism—as if Sasuke's need to be perfect was the problem. And how was he to defend himself from that accusation?

However Naruto, immersed in his own problems, could not even perceive the extent of his friend's simmering anxiety. And rubbing his chin thoughtfully, looks up to Itachi. "You said you felt other distortions in the house. Do you know what exactly?"

"I would need a confirmation as with all things."

Sasuke darkens. "Just tell us what the other 'distortions' are? I'll confirm if it's true or not."

Naruto wants to remind Sasuke to relax, and also put a stop to the guessing game, however, at that moment he catches a flash of light in Itachi's eyes, and freezes in sudden anticipation.

"The time," begins Itachi, zooming to the clock hung up on the wall. "Is not correct, off by a few minutes." Glancing with chilling reservation back at his brother, before sizing up Naruto, he continues, or rather leaves fresh bait for his brother, "The air is stale perhaps because the plants haven't been watered once. The lighting is dull. And the space has become tighter."

"Nothing else?" urges Sasuke.

"Something you want me to acknowledge, little brother?"

At that, Sasuke shakes with anxiety that only the trained eye could see.

_Why is he hesitating? _Naruto couldn't take it anymore. "Just say it's me!" he shouts, in that terribly high-pitched voice.

"You?"

"It's me, Naruto! You said I was familiar, didn't ya? That we met in different circumstances," he rambles breathlessly, "Sasuke said you could help me change back into…myself."

Instead of shock or incredulity, Itachi's expression remains unhinged.

"You already knew," accuses Sasuke who notices the lack of astoundment.

"I did."

"Why didn't you say anything then? Is this family charades, or what? Some damned guessing game around the fireplace for hell's sake? " fires off Naruto, panting out waves of lava, but the woman's voice spilling over his lips, cracks under the heat. "If you knew who I was then why'd you pretend otherwise?!"

"Patients open cases with the doctor, not the other way around. What if you didn't want help? I don't interfere unless asked."

Delicate blond brows quiver. "How'd you know anyway…I obviously don't look the same."

Itachi silently looms over him for a long moment. Finally he says, "For me it's very easy to tell. Your chakra signature is the same except for two points. And I picked up on secondary cues as minute as your accent, similar appearance, and mannerisms. Moreover, you have a unique compatibility with my brother...his energy changes around your presence. In ways you might not guess."

The tidbit at the end flies over Sasuke's head, who instead narrows his eyes. Respect and dignity constantly clashes and he vociferates sharply, "Well? Can you do anything about it? Or will you have us beg for your help, like you always do?"

"When have I ever made you beg?" Itachi volleys back. "Do you even hear yourself Sasuke?"

"Always, you always drag things unnecessarily."

Naruto wishes he recorded this whole evening's conversation, so he could show Sasuke who started the whole fucking game in the first place.

"There's no reward for impatience. Even if I gave you the answers you wanted, your feelings for Naruto acts like an impenetrable bias."

"What feelings? What exactly are you referring to?" Sasuke repeats with increasing loudness. "I did everything you asked but you still purposefully avoid me. Even now, you don't care to explain things fully even though you have time to joke about me as though I'm something unimportant—"

Watching the ping-pong ball being thrown back and forth, Naruto keeps himself in the sidelines.

"I was never making a joke, only honestly admitting your unique connection with Naruto."

"That has nothing to do with anything!"

"Sasuke…let's save this for another time, enough for now."

The flames remits into a shroud of ice. Sasuke glares at his brother with bubbling need. A need that's been there the whole time but becoming sharp and demonic. "That's what you always do. Dismiss and defer."

"Now really isn't such a time. Go and make tea," Itachi responds, with the wave of a hand. "Select some relaxing herbs, which I feel all of us could use. Naruto and I will wait, go."

Naruto swallows at the pure frustration evident on his friend's expression: dark brows furrowed, a cloud of deep frustration hovers over the pale face. He never imagined just how Itachi could cause such an effect, and that Sasuke would ever speak out of place with family. Moreover, considering how the current situation felt like an inescapable fatal whirlpool, he kept cautiously quiet. And patiently waits for Itachi's instructions.

When Sasuke disappears, Itachi pulls up very close, lowering only very slightly. "Come with me," he whispers.

Without any hesitation whatsoever, and much like a trusting puppy, Naruto pads after him all the way upstairs. Not a single creak or peep as they ascend up silently as if they floated the whole way there. There…being a bedroom, apparently.

Itachi led him into the room, before soundlessly shutting the door. "Do you want my help, Naruto?"

_Of course, that's why I came up all the way here._ "Yeah. I do."

"Then let me examine you quickly." Itachi gestures at the bed, and under dark fringes of hair, continued, "Take everything off."

What? What did he say? Naruto's mind blanks out into oblivion. "Eh-eh…why?!"

Instead of answering, Itachi sits on a wooden stool in the corner, taking up an old parchment scroll into his hands. "I'm going to check your condition. And I'd prefer it before my brother returns," he answers neutrally, not even looking up.

The dim lighting. The wide king sized bed. Violet curtains blowing from the wind. Naruto looks everywhere around as he sheds off his clothes one by one—everywhere but Itachi very striking presence. The plain ceiling, the mahogany nightstand. And the cold wooden floor the moment his bare, small feet makes contact. He removes the cap off his head, lets free all the golden straws he imprisoned. He almost snaps off Sakura's bra, almost. But his hands froze over the clasp.

"Okay, this here-this is good enough right?" he grinds out, "I don't need to take this off. Right?"

Itachi glances up from the scroll he's reading. "Ideally everything should be off." A brief but deep pause of consideration. "But keep the under garments on, since you seem afraid."

Damn it to hell. Naruto looks down at himself like he's reconsidering: and no. No. The bra, maybe. But his boxers? He can't, because he just can't remove it, especially in front of someone else...it's shame, fear, some weird hope, and yeah he's insecure. Uncertainty skyrockets to unbelievable thresholds; and even as he remembers how well Sasuke spoke of his brother, that this may be his only hope, With clenched fists, he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers, ready to pull it down, ready to kick it to the rest of the pile of clothes. Until-

"Leave it on," intercedes Itachi, in a deep commanding voice. "Sit down."

As soon as he sank into the mattress, Naruto let out a nervous sigh. He hears shuffling noises, and so he lifts his head up to see. Itachi rummaging a dresser's drawers with ease.

"What's the plan?" he questioned, unable to douse the anxiety welling up his high-pitched voice.

That's when he finally, much to his embarrassment, meets the narrowed gaze. In that moment, mortification liquefies into his blood and fills up his ears and face with crimson. He feels the heat, and he feels awfully dreadful for it. _Come on_, his mind reels, _not like I'm sinking any lower than rock-bottom. _There's no reason, no reason at all to be this affected. And yet, Itachi's fervent eyes lowered and locked right onto his chest. Staring at the female attributes, well the cleavage of it since Sakura's tiny bra pushes up all the flesh into perky mounds; and unlike Kiba, not in a dumbfounded way—but rather soaks him up, appearing impressed.

Drawing near until finally hovering over, Itachi murmurs for him to relax, that he'd check his state quickly. And Naruto feels like it's the hardest task he's ever been asked to do, might as well have asked to walk on spikes and keep a straight face on: "relaxing", that's just not happening here. How? Sounds so easy, yet he'd rather climb a mountain in a damned pounding blizzard. Fine, he closes his eyes, 'relaxes' his shoulders, feeling his spine melt into the bed. Because at this point, he's not sitting, he collapses flat on his back while breaths come in shakily, trying to fend off the pounding heart.

He felt Itachi's fingers prod his forehead. "Ah—what…" the smell of herbs wafts. "Are you rubbing stuff on my face?" he cries.

"Eyes closed," reminds Itachi, and presses firmly at the forehead. "Essences which open the chakra allowing me to see more."

_Not bad. _Actually, pretty good. Maybe this could keep going, and he wouldn't have to roll in mud or pig's shit like some of the dark-magic websites claimed necessary. Instead, herbal essences seems to be a good bargain deal for getting his manhood back. In fact, he's floating on a cloud and problems: wait, what are problems, because they didn't matter, not when this the intoxicating scent plucks all his fears out. "Okay," he whispers, agreeing with the sensations.

Itachi drags his fingers alongside Naruto's pulsing temples, trails down the delicate neck, where he finds the carotid artery. Almost like Itachi can will a pulse pressure to drop. After staying there for several moments, he palpates lower and lower. And the whole time, he feels the heavenly scent and Itachi's perfectly light touch. Just those two things. Not even realizing where he's being touched. Cracking an eye open, he at once sees a pale hand pressing against his sternum—right between the…

"Naruto." Itachi's strong voice jolted him in surprise. "No resistance from you means complete relaxation."

"I—I…fine, I'm relaxed."

Obliged to keep the process going, Naruto easily drifts back into the realm of rest. In fact, the scent carries him all the way into a false paradise, where he'd live in forever if he could; hearing only himself breathe, feeling only his pulse bound beneath his skin. When he immerses so deeply in relaxation—a heated and cooling wave rushing down every center of his body, in his veins simultaneously: and thus, Naruto lets out a whoosh of breath. This must be heaven, what if Itachi's sending him there? Contrasting waves of hot and cold energy torrents from the chest down to the groin like a dam breaking loose: a river. Though instead of discomfort, it felt like ecstasy. Like spearmint filling up his insides, creating tingles and those inescapable shivers of invigoration. Intensely cool one moment, and the next burning hot, a battle of two extremes.

"Feels weird," he groans.

"Quiet," Itachi replies, sounding disagreeable.

Quiet? Did he say anything? He couldn't remember. This experience felt too transient and time's lost to him. Afraid to open his eyes, because of how good everything felt—and he didn't want it to stop. Was he getting detoxified? Transported into another dimension? When every ounce of life in him kindles and tingles, he descends more into this realm of confusion. Like his mind's separating from the unearthly sensations of the body...his mind a conservative, separate entity: questioning. Where was he?

_Lub, dub, bum!_ His heart's melody provides order. He'll listen to it, and find his way back. Except for the fact, it's not his heart.

"Itachi? Naruto?" Sasuke's voice inquires from the hall. "Why is the door locked?"

More knocking. "Naruto get out of there," demands his friend, in a louder tone.

Locked? They're locked in?

Naruto's eyes snaps wide open, reacting to Sasuke's voice. But he wasn't prepared to see what he saw. Or prepared to feel what he felt. Trails of heat burns along his center axis, definitely all that minty oils kindling his skin. Feverish fire.

And then he sees Itachi's pale, long fingers rubbing in letters on a scroll, while the other hand squeezes his thigh like the flesh of some fruit. Not that it hurt, but he's disturbed at how he never felt the sensations in the first place. Where the hell had he been this whole time?

"Eh, what are you doing?" Naruto asks, but gets muffled by Itachi, who removes from his thigh in favor for his mouth. "Ah—hah—nnnghh.."

"Part of the examination," answers Itachi, lowering his lips to Naruto's ear. "You'll be interested to know what I found."

_What…what did you find._ "Mmm," he managed through the clamped hand over his mouth, "Okay, shit, tell me!" he panicks, especially when he's freed.

Drawing back, Itachi removes himself off the bed, rolling up the scroll. "Not now. I have to reassess. And Sasuke will only interfere."

_Thump! Bump_! "Itachi! Unlock this door!"

Naruto throws his legs over the bed, but a dizzying spell casts over him. "Damn it…" _to think I was numb to everything…_ "Just what exactly was that? Send me into another dimension, holy fuck!" he growls, disoriented, hearing his voice echo back into his ears as sharp rings. They're actually sharp rings though, and he shivers.

"Quickly dress up."

Wincing, Naruto reaches for every piece of attire and urgently dons his orange outfit. Ignoring how hot and heavy he felt—and how diaphoretic he's rendered. And the last image he's seen drove his heart into a maddening pace: what was Itachi writing? The bizarre image. The bizarre ordeal, looked like some ritual. Something about chakra. About opening up his centers, and yet, no. His mind explodes and explodes with stars of confusion. Why. How.

He's about to rush up and snatch a fistful of Itachi, and demand for a better explanation. There's got to be a better explanation, got to be! However...

The moment he dressed fully, Itachi allows Sasuke to enter. "What's the matter little brother? Do tell me the tea's ready."

Sasuke wasn't looking at Itachi, but strictly ascertains Naruto's disheveled form. "What were you both doing up here?" he demands icily. "You said you'd wait for me, and the moment I'm gone…"

"I examined Naruto," answers Itachi, appearing calm as an undisturbed pond.

Scowling, Sasuke bites out, "With the door locked?"

"My door automatically locks when shut, you know this."

"Damn it Sasuke," snaps Naruto, almost ready to confess until...he squeezes his face in pure dread, choking on his own words. "Nothing happened." And never again. He even flushes at the idea, to be thrust in that other dimension, what if he'd been stuck there?

Raven bangs shadows over narrowing eyes, as Sasuke turns away as if burned. Guilt crawls up Naruto's throat, and he goes to follow his friend's now retreating figure—but Itachi reels him back.

"Naruto, your change may be permanent," says Itachi lowly, delivering the words like fucking ice bullets, no matter how soft of a gel they're covered in. "I'll have to reassess," he continues, "and explain to you another time."

He manages an ardent glare, despite how clammy he felt. "Yeah, when? And this time I want Sasuke with me. No reason he shouldn't know."

Itachi never blinks. "Actually I need to observe Sasuke too. He's the reason for your change, after all."

Sasuke. The reason? "I-Itachi," Naruto groans, putting out a hand against the wall. The news is worse than he prepared for. "What the, man, come on. No, just...how?"

"Sasuke is the reason, Naruto. And I need to find out if it's accidental, or intentional."

With that, Itachi taps his shoulder assuringly, before heading back into the bedroom.

Intentionally? Sasuke intentionally would do this? What the...what the shit! Itachi's a quack, no way! Furious and bewildered, Naruto tries dragging himself down the stairs without the gait of a sick person, attempting to move fluidly …to no avail. So this is how it felt to be a woman? This easily debilitated, and weakened? God damn it, what's wrong with him. Not knowing what kind of spell or magic, Itachi used, but surgical abusive mental probing. If Sasuke would have been by his side...and yet, Itachi's saying Sasuke's the damned reason.

Suppressing all outward signs, Naruto doesn't want his friend ever suspecting what happened—he'd die of shame, but he's also unsure. He couldn't even fathom how Sasuke'd react. Therefore he puts on a great phony smile enough to blind even the blind, and Naruto enters the place Sasuke's occupying: by the hearth in the living room.

"Hey," he prods. Seeing his friend completely unhinged, he repeats, "Earth to Sasuke. Hello?"

Sasuke turns on him at last, perched in the chair. Like the calm before the storm. "Are you going to tell me what exactly went on in that room?"

Naruto falters for a moment. "I told ya, didn't I? You oughta be more trusting."

"Did he humor you with more philosophy?" spat Sasuke, leaning back with a sharp look of contempt. "Well?"

Philosophy. How far from it. He almost bled his knuckles at how tightly he clenched them. "Kind of…? Come on, forget it. And for cryin' out loud what's your problem? I don't understand why you're being so hateful. Been bitter like a lemon all evening."

"No, I'm not bitter. I'm not hateful, I just don't like you," snaps Sasuke like a band that's been stretched too far, "naïve idiot."

"Because I talked with your brother?" he fires back, "What did you want me to do? Come on, don't start a family feud when we've got bigger problems to fry. Like the fact that I'm a woman and let's face it, this is a problem of a lifetime."

When meeting with only silence, Naruto paces nervously. Sasuke, did you do this to me? The question's implanted into his brain. That'd explain why Sasuke believed him almost right away. Sasuke's reaction to his gender change was of surprise, but not like Kiba's. And now what if Sasuke's bitter and aggravated towards Itachi because Itachi knew the truth?! That's why the guessing game, the way Sasuke would stall! Holy shit what if Itachi's right? What if it's intentional?

Naruto strenuously bites down the nausea and headache threatening to overwhelm him any moment. However, he endures and soon adapts to its continuous presence. Damn it! How can he open up to Sasuke? When he didn't even know what happened himself upstairs in that bedroom, except for the last part. When he'd finally open his eyes to see Itachi inscribing something into a scroll. When he finally opened his eyes and returned to consciousness, for hell's sake. And then what about having Itachi observe his brother, figure out if Sasuke...accidentally did this...

Anger and humiliation trapped like steam in his lungs, and Naruto struggles to keep the fake smile afloat...

He almost confesses to Sasuke, but...

If he does, he might never get back to his self. Grinding his teeth, Naruto screws his eyes shut at the dilemma. "Well," he drawls, putting on his cap, "You've been a great, big help. I'm going home."

Sasuke shoots out of his seat. Like lightning he yanks the ruffled blond forward. "You can't go."

"All my stuff's there, Sasuke! And where else am I going to go?"

"Kiba won't recognize you. Just wait here with me."

They hold each other's gazes for some time, until Naruto pulls away first. "I…I think it's not a good idea. You obviously need to sort things out with your brother..."

"No. I said stay," growls Sasuke, jerking the dainty wrists towards him. "I'll go and pick up whatever you need from your home."

Blinking in confusion, and the sudden closeness, Naruto manages, "You'd do that for me? I mean…yeah since you offered, I guess…I'll stay here and wait."

"Write me a list. And I should be back within twenty minutes," he says softly.

"Yo I just want my phone, laptop, and toothbrush." Naruto shrugs. "How about I just go with you? I'll stay in the car while you go and grab my things. Not like I'd rather sit around here."

In fact, Sasuke doesn't want Naruto alone with Itachi, and thus he tightens his hold on the thin wrist. "Good."

He doesn't want to be alone either, truthfully. "Alright so…" wiggling out of the iron grasp, Naruto treads into the foyer. Slipping on Sakura's sandals. "After we get my toothbrush and phone, I'll crash the night here. Your place. Since you offered."

"Yes." _Moron, _was the unsaid addition, which Naruto hears in his mind.

"Just making sure," he defends. Then tilting up his head in wonderment, "It's been a really long time since I crashed your place, Sasuke. The last time was probably years ago, when I got snowed in and couldn't get home. You let me sleep over."

"Hn."

Grinning, he fumbles around with his cap, shifting it side to side. "Man. Do you remember? I got a little jealous at how you had the whole house to yourself. Your brother always being gone that time."

Walking in tandem with Sasuke into the driveway, he continues mischievously, "You liked having me around that night. We chilled and I introduced you to some fun games, which you apparently never thought existed."

At the press of a remote, Sasuke's car lights up to life, and the locks unhinge. They both dive in, and upon slamming the doors shut, Naruto gazes out the window looking down at the moonlit hills, which the road curves up and around, seemingly an endless path. Yet seeing his reflection in the side mirrors of the car—he stops and stares at the image of a perfect Dresden doll. Imagine looking at yourself, from above. But instead of recognizing, you observe yourself as a foreign entity. He stares into the bluest eyes of someone else. No matter how hard he squinted…

The engine roars to life and snaps him out of the daze. He glances at Sasuke, who's immersed in shifting his car's manual gears. At least Sasuke would be his pillar of security, unswayed and strongly in tact: his best friend. Nothing would change between them.

"Tonight'll be just like the good ol' days," Naruto says, despite the sinking feeling in his chest, and he rubs his hands nervously together.


	3. Something About Sasuke?

_A/N_: Thanking my lovely beta Darkly Dreaming Allie for her whole help. And AlexConfused! They're both incredibly awesome. Shout out to Kandalyn Kohl for dispatching some whip-like concrit, which definitely helped me out too.

**Chapter Three**

**Something About Sasuke...?**

* * *

Like a madman he whipped around. Shooting glances at every angle.

Silence didn't _deafen_, but rather…smothered his ears with thick invisible plugs. It hurt. It hurt to hear himself breathe. It hurt to _hear_ himself pant in agony. Because the gasping voice—didn't belong to him. Astonishment assaulted his nerves; because no matter how many cycles of hearing himself he went through, he couldn't adapt to these changes.

Ever since Itachi thrust him into the cold, miserable 'dimension'…he felt awareness and sensitivity to _everything_. Like his mind had folded outwards, activating every nerve and every fiber. The air against his skin, the whooshes of breath filling his lungs, the cramps in his abdomen turning and flipping. Everything he never felt before, he felt now.

At last Naruto gazed through the open car window, he squinted into the distance. There—he could see his apartment building. But the lights weren't on. Without a shadow of doubt, he saw his apartment window reflecting only the orange glow from the street lamps.

"What are you doing, Sasuke," he groaned, throwing his head back, "Why are you taking so long?"

As if answering his question, in that moment he saw Sasuke dart out into the street from the building. In a flash, his friend crossed the road and swung into the driver's seat. The bag in his pale hands already tossed into Naruto's lap.

"Everything you asked for," said Sasuke, strapping on the seatbelt.

After foraging the contents, he smiled weakly. "Thanks. And Kiba?"

"Asleep."

"Ah, okay."

For a long moment, they stared into each other's eyes. Something flashed in Sasuke. Like a rare comet flitting through the night, something incredibly amazing but fleeting. Naruto blinked, feeling the random collision of their gazes overwhelm him, especially when an obscured feeling sparked…

Anxious, he automatically blurted, "What is it, ya bastard? Let's get a move on."

Unfazed by the boyish teasing, Sasuke remains steadfast.

"You're feeling hot?"

"I'm guessing you can tell by all the sweat, huh? Hell, you don't even know how bad I'm cramping up." Naruto grinned, while rubbing the perspiration off his forehead with a swift swipe of his hand. "And I thought a woman's body naturally sweated less! Guess some things won't change."

Sasuke leaned over, gently grabbing the dainty moist wrist. "Moron," he murmured. "You don't know a thing about women."

"Of course I do—ah—eh? What are you doing?" cried Naruto, stiffening at the physical contact. He felt so sensitive! Why?

Pressing slender fingers against Naruto's radial pulse, Sasuke narrowed his eyes in deep thought. He seemed completely apathetic to Naruto's nervous twitching. "Hn. Not good," he sighed.

Their faces only a scant inch apart, he could feel their heats collide. Like two powerful auras brimming against each other. His hackles rose, and goose bumps bloomed all over. Even though his friend seemed absorbed completely elsewhere, he zoomed into Sasuke's parted lips. Why? As if struck by lightning, Naruto's eyes widened and quickly he looked away. The closeness. That's why. When you're just in someone's face, naturally you examine the details of that person's features. But lips, come on? _Sasuke's _lips. His conscience beat him up for even _looking_ at the perfect outlines…the perfect shapes and skin…damn it, here we go again!

Shaking his head of these thoughts, Naruto swallowed thickly. "What's not good? Besides the fact that I'm a woman. Hell, obviously I'm not good. Who wants to be a girl? _Not me_."

"Your fever." The answer sounded so clipped...almost as if annoyed by his response.

With that, Sasuke pulled away and the car roared to life; yet, Naruto couldn't tell if it was the engine or Sasuke growling because his friend seemed extremely aggravated the whole drive. Never speaking another word. Never sparing a glance. Masterfully maneuvering their way back home with admirable focus. However, Naruto watched the unnervingly thick cloud hovering over his friend…as if some storm brewed underneath the perfect porcelain skin. He couldn't decipher the danger or its depth. But, he hoped Sasuke wasn't too annoyed by him.

Sighing shakily, Naruto leaned back into the seat, weighed down by all the despair. For he didn't want a fever either. No one wants a fever combined with striking abdominal pain. What's worse when he asked for Sasuke to turn on the AC, he was met with a hard unrelenting wall of 'no'. And not wanting to burden Sasuke anymore, he kept quiet the rest of the way.

After they'd parked in the driveway, Naruto could barely feel his own arms. Spaghetti limbs couldn't open doors; not only that but his mind melted into spaghetti too. Hell. He felt like he was shrinking…and other times he felt huge. As if his mind couldn't get out of a wonderland, where witches tortured his body. Teasing him senselessly.

"Come on," urged Sasuke, holding the door open.

_Ah_…_he's waiting._ "Alright, just one sec—ah, almost—hah—" He felt Sasuke hook him in an embrace, pulling him out of the car.

Panicking, Naruto managed to croak, "Hold on, this is unnecessary…I can walk!"

"Idiot. I was waiting a whole minute for you to come out. Obviously you can't."

A minute? His eyes widened, as he felt himself hoisted up. "Put me down. Dude, this is embarrassing! I got this. I can walk. I don't need this kind of help."

No use. Sasuke's arms remained secured under his back and under the groove of his knees, scooping him up. Naruto flushed even more when, upon the panicky turn of his head, he accidentally pressed his face into Sasuke's shirt. And the scent of rain and vanilla trailed straight into his brain. His best friend smelled great.

"Gah! N-no…mmph," he barely said, voice muffled by the shirt, he whipped his face away from Sasuke's chest. "Hey Lancelot, I said I got this!"

While for Sasuke, he only heard gibberish and incoherent whines, and continued to hold the shivering form in his arms. Unconsciously he tightened his hold as soon as Naruto's legs flailed putting up a fight; each kick weak until finally sapped of their energy; they dangled in a typical bridal style carry, swaying with every step he took.

"This is my fault." Sasuke glowered, a piercing scowl contorting his whole expression.

"What are you even saying? No way…"

"I'm locking you in my room tonight. With me."

Through half-lidded eyes, Naruto could see fury flashing in the other, blaring like sunlight. "I can sleep on the couch downstairs, 'Suke…no need…"

"Don't even start with me," retaliated Sasuke, without glancing down, "You won't tell me truthfully what Itachi said or did, so I don't trust either of you. Want you next to me."

Grinding his molars, Naruto shot a glare. "Oh. So you don't trust me?"

"Not talking about it now," came the deeply tempestuous reply.

Doesn't. Trust. Muscles that went limp before, rattled at the words. "But 'Suke…" His heart tore: which is strange because he hardly felt anything else along his body. "I'm…I'd tell…listen, maybe..."

The stutters and stammers emblazoned Sasuke even more. "What?" he demanded coldly.

That's when the world spun out of control at three hundred kilometers per minute. Oh hell; like some fanatical roller coaster ride, and his vision flung violently side to side. He gasped when he felt his head bob up and down. Until he saw it was because Sasuke carried him up the stairs.

"How can you say you don't trust me, asshole? Take it back…"

Naruto heard his own words float in the air like a wistful melody. A lovely woman's voice…even if she cussed like a delinquent.

Ignoring the command, Sasuke set his feverish friend onto the bed, and immediately went to search through his drawers for some tools. Upon grabbing a thermometer from one of the shelves, he returned back to the bedside. Sasuke quietly assessed the vitals: as he wedged the thermometer into Naruto's armpit, and wrapped the blood pressure cuff snugly over the brachial pulse.

"Ne, Sasuke…" blinked Naruto, "I didn't know you had all this. Come on, I'm invincible! Trust me when I say that this is not necessary."

"You're running a fever," cut in Sasuke sharply. "That's far from invincible, moron."

Naruto struggled to prop himself up on an elbow. "Listen 'm sweating a lot. So you probably want me on the floor or…or something."

"No."

"But…I think I'll throw up soon."

Sasuke gestured at the bin he stationed by the bedside. "Then throw up in here. I don't want you to sleep anywhere else."

Something about Sasuke's perfect bulwark of determination…stabilized his coiling vision. The stroke of concern lacing his friend's tone (a note which sounded misplaced), and even worry contorting his features ever so subtly: Naruto almost felt reassured, as if he heard the court rule a verdict to his bettering health. Almost. But he then remembered Sasuke's ill words "I don't trust you", and a revolting bubbling in his stomach beat him full force.

"Actually—pass me that bin. I feel a wave coming on," he moaned, swaying with nausea. "Ugh…"

After heaving the contents of his stomach, Naruto wiped at the smidgens of bile around his mouth. His throat burned from the acid, and he quivered from the intense convulsions. Just when he thought it was over, another sickening aura set in, and Naruto gurgled up more into the bin. More and more. Until finally he dropped limp into the bed, too exhausted. As if his nervous system dispatched a cease and desist on his uneasy abdomen.

Fluttering his eyes open, he looked up at Sasuke. "Gross, right? Still want me in your bed?"

"Yes." There's not a sliver of doubt. Perfect Sasuke, perfectly resolute.

He couldn't even put up a fight in this state. Thus, Naruto merely shook his head. "It's just I know how much of a neat freak you are, and you never let me mess up your perfectly perfect…everything. Eh—Sasuke? Where…"

Apparently Sasuke had gone out of the room. Blinking slowly, he lifted his head up slightly. "Hey! I was talking!"

Awkward pauses passed. And still no Sasuke. This fever, this headache, and all this pain in his lower belly, straight up jacked his mind from keeping track of anything! He swore he felt Sasuke near him. And the second he heard his friend return through the doorway, Naruto was about to launch off angrily, fists clenched, but…

_Itachi_! Seeing the man's form, his silhouette, the penetrating gaze: Naruto iced up into perfect stillness.

"You," he said, almost accusatory.

Itachi's lips quirked into a simple smile. "Not feeling well, I see."

Heart racing, Naruto furrowed his brows in bewilderment.

"What gave it away?" he asked sarcastically. But seeing Itachi unfazed, he probed further, "Just give it to me straight, come on. What's wrong with me? I can tell you know!"

"I don't think you can handle it," Itachi said, with utmost softness. "Especially since a great deal of your stress is now _psychological _more than it is physical."

"No. I—I can handle it! Itachi. I promise I can handle it. If you're psychic, you know I never go back on my word, so just tell me!"

Itachi kept his distance, but his eyes shone with familiarity. "Let my brother tend to you for the night. The news I have to tell you, can wait."

The words. They felt like boulders plummeting to his soul. News? Bad news? No he couldn't wait. He didn't care anymore how bad it was. No one understands, no one gets it. What do you do when a stroke of malice flings you into cold outer space? What's supposed to stop you from infinitely swirling into literally nothing? But the fact that he felt himself spun out of control, from nothing or from something. Just utter agony, how else could he explain it, when no one seems to get it. Waking up one morning as a woman when you're a guy, does anyone get such an absurd calamity?

"You said you'd tell me, right? I don't care _just say it_."

Itachi considered him for a moment. "Believe me, Naruto. You don't want to hear it right now. Give yourself a rest."

"So it's permanent? I'm stuck this way?" he cried out like an asylum patient. No. Don't affirm it. No, don't agree!

His heart skipped several beats. Frantic arrhythmia gripping his heart at Itachi's next words.

"Very likely," murmured Itachi, the smile evaporating. "What I found from earlier, proves it. Even your illness right now confirms it. The start of a new month, what do you think that translates to in a woman's world, Naruto?"

Pure dread clogged his throat. "I don't understand."

"Female biology doesn't ring a bell? You know what I'm referring to. Woman's cycles."

_Do you hear this_? Naruto asked God, why him? But instead he voiced the question to Itachi. "Why?" _Why me…_

"Because of Sasuke."

"No," Naruto fired back. "This has nothing to do with him."

Itachi tilted his head up, as if in wonderment. "Yes, I'm also somewhat surprised by it."

So, that's it. His life was over. Because there's no way Sasuke's involved in this. Menstrual periods, is this for real? It's like a horror story coming true, holy hell. Half of him nearly burst out laughing, while the other half of him became hypothermic with icy terror. The dichotomy forming in his heart overtook his facial muscles; and Naruto felt half of his features twitching, and the other completely still. An awkward portrait of someone who felt completely awkward.

He couldn't even seriously meet Itachi's gaze. Instead, his bright bangs overshadowed his defeated expression; and he was infinitely thankful for the golden veil blocking the windows to his soul. For this way, no one could see the wetness in one of his eyes.

"I—I can't stay like this. Change me back," he growled, but instead it came out as a woman's nagging tone. He cringed at the sound of it.

"I'll try."

Naruto nearly shot up with hope. "You'll find a way, I believe it!" he whisked out.

At that moment, Sasuke whirled into the room. Time seemed to stop. For Naruto already phased out; discovering what he needed, he lost all possible passion and will.

Glaring at Itachi, Sasuke quipped, "What are you doing in my room, brother?"

The tension thickened to viscous mud, splattering the air with a foul stench. Naruto, numb to it all, sank into the mattress in raw dread. Too absorbed in his own agony—he couldn't feel Sasuke's burning fury or Itachi's cloud of purity. Brothers clashed like two opposites, canceling each other's energies out. But he sighed, drowning deeper into the whirlpool of pain. Maybe in other circumstances, he'd play diplomat but, he couldn't even breathe straight.

"Simply leaving," answered Itachi.

Before Sasuke could press for further inquiries, Itachi excused himself and left.

Thus, he turned on Naruto with burning demands. "What did he say?"

Pure dread bumbled in his stomach like lava. How the hell does one come out of the closet and say, 'Bro, I'm on my period?!'. Exactly. "That I'm probably wrecked for good," he almost wailed. "Damn it, it's over. I don't want to believe it but…what if it's true, Sasuke?"

"Open your mouth," commanded Sasuke, leaning over him, "Lift up your tongue."

"Why?"

"Do it," he repeated patiently.

Raising a brow, Naruto also raised his tongue up. "Wha—eh…medicine?"

"Absorbs instantly when it's sublingual," said Sasuke.

"I know that," he growled. Why did Sasuke have to assume he knew _nothing_? "I just didn't expect it!"

Ignoring the defensive-aggressive chatter, Sasuke continued. "I put Sakura's bag of clothes right by here. Change into something dryer and lighter while I'm gone. I'll bring you some water."

"With some honey," added Naruto, before being left completely alone. Again.

Fine, well, not a bad idea at all; considering how diaphoretic he felt and how his clothes stuck to him like paste—changing into something dry sounded extremely appealing. So appealing, a surge of energy rushed through his system and he scrambled off the bed. With Sasuke gone and the door locked, he yanked off the damp orange t-shirt, undid the bra (as soon as it came off it equaled instant relief), and kicked off his basketball shorts. Being nude felt downright refreshing but sinful—he _tried_ not to look at himself. And thus, he fumbled through Sakura's garments with growing dread. They all seemed either tight or designed with complex layers and the idea of wearing any of it simply drained his spirit. Perhaps…perhaps Sasuke wouldn't mind lending…?

Swaying like an unsteady pillar, Naruto made way to Sasuke's dresser. "He won't mind…"

Of course he won't mind. Heck, they've done it before. Well…on accident they'd swapped; but still! However as he rummaged around, something unusual caught his eye inside the drawer; a sort of object which stood out like an open festering wound. Naruto zoomed in on it. What could it be?

_A journal?_ Naruto's eyes widened, struck dumb.

"No way!" He took it instantly into his hands, inspecting the small book. "I can't believe he'd have one of these…"

"Dream Journal", it said on the plain black cover.

Flipping it open, he saw Sasuke's perfect handwriting: lots of it, lining every page. Seeing each page dated daily sent his heart racing. So Sasuke wrote in this _every day_?! He almost cussed under his breath in sheer astonishment. He'd never pegged Sasuke for one to own a journal. For finding this secret hidden treasure felt like finding an undiscovered terrain: a whole world to be explored. He felt winded at the thought of it.

_Bum. Bum._

When he heard the two knocks, he automatically said, "Hm."

Though as soon as he heard the door knob turn, Naruto jumped. Wait—he still needed to put on a shirt and he just blurted out an affirmation—ah shoot! In a jerk reflex, he threw the journal back into the drawer. And grabbing anything at all, any shirt his fingers could hook onto, he flattened it out and dug in two arms. Though it was too late.

"What are you doing, moron?"

When he turned to see Sasuke standing by the doorway, he cried, "Don't get mad at me Sasuke…I just was going to borrow a shirt, nothing else."

Perhaps turning around was a bad idea…

Instead of delivering a comeback, Sasuke only silently stared at him. And Naruto's breath hitched when he saw Sasuke redden…becoming just as rubicund as he was. Contrasting emotions clashed within his friend's silent expression, whose delicate brows twitched once or twice. Sasuke briefly closed his eyes in a grimace, and rubbed at his temples.

That's right, he was still bare chested. The burning heat from the fever now amplified from Naruto's sheer embarrassment. Quickly, he pulled the shirt down similar to how curtains close at the end of a show. In fact the size was rather large so the shirt covered his upper thighs as well; though that really didn't matter since he still wore his trusty ol' boxers. What mattered now—was the intense scrutiny of his friend…Sasuke was drilling him a mixed look of flustered-confident quietude.

_He saw me in this form. God damn it!_ Naruto flushed into a portrait of a red sunset. Because of that impassive, unreadable gaze. What, did Sasuke feel disgusted? Not because of the female anatomy but because he, Naruto Uzumaki, had female parts? Some kind of circus show, some kind of Gothic freak, a manly spirit in a woman's body. The whole idea gave him dizzying spells. He wasn't a freak, he didn't choose this!

In that moment, Sasuke slowly said, "I knocked."

"I know." _Shit…_

A very amused smirk gradually perked up in Sasuke. "You decided to wear my clothes?"

"I…don't feel well. Didn't really feel like dealing with complicated designer dresses."

"Of course," replied the other, closing the distance between them, "What else did you try?"

Gulping down the rising dread, Naruto blinked innocently. "You know there's nothing else. So…"

"Nothing else, you say," echoed Sasuke, leaning forward. "You've been a bad liar this whole evening."

Nervous and slightly disoriented, Naruto pressed further back into the wall. "Come on Sasuke, I swear that's all I checked for."

Sasuke glanced appraisingly at his open drawer. And sharply he looked back into the shivering form pressing firmly against the wall. "You sure you want to lie to me again?"

The chills only got worse from there. Naruto felt his knees weaken and whatever pains he had before now augmented to a debilitating trauma. "I'm not lying to you! I saw a journal okay? B-but I didn't open it!" he exclaimed under a shaky breath, "So please don't put me on trial over it…I didn't read anything! Seriously," he choked out the last part, because he felt Sasuke's hands seize his shoulders.

"Relax."

Inhaling deeply, but still trembling, Naruto screwed his eyes shut.

"Get back into bed and go to sleep."

"Alright," he mumbled unwittingly, sinking into Sasuke's grip, "what about you….where are you gonna sleep?"

"The chair."

He frowned at the quick answer. "Let's share. Not a big deal…"

In silence, Sasuke led him back to bed; and what's more, his swelling pride already packed its bags and left town. Behind closed doors, he felt more at ease, more willing to accept help, especially from his best friend. He honestly began to question why he ever made a fuss. Truly he enjoyed Sasuke's help and attention, like a cozy warming radiator filling his cold world. His sick cold world of being transformed into a woman.

Naruto made sure to lay on one side of the bed, and patted the whole space left.

"Look, there's lots of room. I promise I don't snore. And I don't kick or toss around either…"

When Sasuke simply gazed down with incredulity, Naruto groaned in frustration.

"What? The size of this mattress can fit the four of me so why the big deal?"

"I'll sit in my chair, thanks," growled Sasuke, who moved his seat to the foot of the bed.

"Really, I don't get why you're so conservative," Naruto commented in between pants. "Is it because I'm a…woman? Is that why you're so hesitant?"

At the suggestion, Sasuke tightened into a stiff mass. "No."

"Then why are we oceans apart? I feel like you think I'm contagious with the way you're acting."

Sasuke furrowed his brow, turning aside and facing away. But Naruto caught that faint glimmer of foreign emotion passing in an otherwise barren expression. And he caught it before it could be veiled. What's Sasuke thinking? He felt his hair stand on end, sensing a lot of unsaid subtext festering underneath the quiet. Sensing some hidden piece of his friend's story. Like a whiff of something sweet but before he could have a taste, it's taken away.

Disconnected. He couldn't read his own best friend. And what's talking ever solved? They never needed to talk about it, they just knew. However this time, Naruto felt as lost as a map-less traveler in the desert.

Following suit, Naruto also turned to his side facing the opposite way.

"The medicine should be kicking in now. Do you feel somewhat better?" asked Sasuke, changing the subject.

"Yeah," he lied.

"Then let's get to sleep," was all the other said before reaching over and turning off the dim lamp on the nightstand.

When the lights went out, Naruto felt the chills take over his senses. The shivering of his nerves, his muscles, and the tingling of his skin—he swallowed and breathed loudly. Why was Sasuke distancing himself all of a sudden? Saying awful things earlier on, such as 'I don't trust you'? His heart twisted at frightening angles and his pulse rate skyrocketed. And now his friend wouldn't even get near him. As if he turned into a grueling alien? A circus act? Naruto blinked back the burning heat of his eyes. Some kind of irritation obviously, but he didn't want anyone to actually think he was crying. It just hurt to keep them open. But when the chills disappeared, and a spreading fire burned his limbs, he couldn't think anymore. He only saw images—transitioning him into a dream…

He sunk into a hellish heat, deeper and deeper. Only thoughts of Sasuke, like an anchor, kept his body in the real world—but his spirit ripped away into that dreadful chaotic feverish fire. The moment he closed his eyes, his world left him, or rather he left the present; and transported into the dreaming realm, thrust into the past, Naruto relived a very dear memory.

No words could describe how beautiful this place was. Dreaming of his first real victory, his heart twisted in anticipation while he slowly made way to the arena set atop a hill. The air clean, with the scent of pine octaves higher. For all the dreams to be in, this moment of his life topped the rest. And what's more, Sasuke was with him; watching. Even though he never _saw_ Sasuke, he felt his presence near.

"_Na-ru-to. Naruto…"_

Cheering. Clapping, like the start of an awesome show. An infinite sky and infinite potential, with the sun glaring down gloriously. Naruto felt himself float onto the stage, keeping his head high. Thousands of eyes drilled into him. 360 degrees surrounded by an audience, watching him.

"The final battle…you've been all waiting for!"

Naruto squared his jaw. Keenly he glared at his opponent on the opposite side of the platform.

"Naruto Uzumaki," announced the host, "versus Neji Hyuuga."

A small smirk passed in that snarky Neji's expression. To which Naruto furrowed his brow threateningly.

"Three rounds. The winner of each round must remain within bounds, and render the opponent down for more than five seconds…"

Clenching his fists, Naruto waited patiently for the signal to begin. He looked deeply into his opponent's emotionless eyes—seeking refuge in them. Oh how he'd knock the pride, haughty air, and arrogance out of Neji, and everyone will bear witness to it. This wasn't about the grand prize or the fame or the acknowledgment: but personal strength.

"…after the gong, bow and begin the match."

Naruto remained steadfast. They bowed after the gong. And upon raising up, their eyes clashed once more.

"Begin!" declared the host, moving away from between them.

No assessment, no cautious posture, as Neji bolted forward. With a quick sword block, Naruto violently fended off an incoming fist. Neji continued testing him by launching an array of fists—all meant to distract him—however, he barely dodged the last strike as he catapulted backwards.

"Round one, Neji Hyuuga!" shouted the host.

The audience roared and gasped. While Naruto's eyes widened in horror…he stepped out of bounds! In the rush of his adrenaline, he lost it…

"Round two, begin!"

Neji smirked daringly, waiting in a left legged stance. Without any further invitation, Naruto rushed forth, sidestepping a jab aimed for his neck and dispatched an upper palm feint. His opponent dipped back in time to evade the attack. However, Naruto felt his femoral muscles twitch with need…and he instinctively sent a roundhouse kick to Neji's face as soon as an opportunity presented itself. The moment his leg made contact, ecstasy shot up Naruto's spine and his heart filled with ambitious warrior strength. He crushed his ankle into the groove of Neji's neck and sent his opponent flying to his side.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Round two, Naruto Uzumaki!"

As soon as Neji jumped up, a very dark and annoyed look crossed his immaculate features. Naruto returned the same annoyed look tenfold.

"Round three, begin!"

They circled each other cautiously. Naruto kept himself ready the whole time—so ready, his epinephrine levels peaked beyond this world—knees, elbows bent, and breathing rather rapid though deep. Ready to mirror, dodge, counter his opponent's next attack, or capitalize on the next opening. Naruto couldn't help but stay on guard, especially perceiving that malicious glint in Neji's opalescent eyes.

Just what was Neji so smug about? He never remembered such a sneering, scornful look before…this dream… it was different. Something felt amiss. For everything perfectly mimicked the true events of that fateful day, except now…

Shifting into cat stance, Naruto's muscles tightened with anticipation; he could already see Neji about to launch, so he'd counter it!

As expected, in that moment, Neji cut up close in jet speeds and dispatched perfect sword hand strikes. Naruto felt time slow. This was just like that day. Foreseeing the strikes, he blocked each one, offending his opponent while still defending.

"You're weak…" he heard Neji grunt, as they neutralized each other's blows.

"Oh yeah?"

"A woman…"

Naruto froze. What?

And in that second, Neji delivered a crescent kick pummeling Naruto down like some doll. Rolling violently, he barely brought himself off the ground in less than five seconds. He haggardly panted drawing in air albeit the electrifying pain shooting up his temples; the sounds of his own breaths drowned the audience whooping in excitement as well as the host's.

"A woman won't defeat me," growled Neji with biting scorn, "Pathetic."

Not true, not true! He wasn't a woman! Naruto bared his teeth in a scowl, while melting into an hourglass stance. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hyuuga."

As if to answer, Neji whirled elegantly forward. With ease Naruto evaded the lunge punches even preventing them with painful inward middle blocks. But then Neji distracted him with a lower kick to the shin, so rapid and light, he had little time to react to the left hook rocketing to his chin! Naruto stumbled backwards ungracefully…disoriented…

Neji grabbed a fistful of blond hair, and in a tone full of contempt, hissed, "Look at this…are you a princess or a warrior?"

"S-shit…what—ugh…"

Unmercifully, Neji kept tugging at the hair before flinging Naruto to the ground…and _almost_ out of bounds. He tried to unfold up, but a stomp kick slapped Naruto across the face—rendering him completely prostrate. He shivered in pain, already feeling the burning bruises forming under his eye. This wasn't how the fight went. This is nothing like it! Clenching his fists, he peeled himself off the ground trembling in terror.

"Yellow foul, Neji Hyuuga!" bellowed the host in his mic, "We will resume round three, which will determine our winner…"

Coldly sneering, Neji loomed over the fallen quivering figure.

"Begin!"

Naruto winced at his body's reaction. Barely had he shifted up into a ready position when Neji went at him again. He reflexively nullified his opponent's sharp blows. As agile as a tiger, he returned a counter clockwise sword block—shattering Neji's perfect delivery. And penetrating his opponent's defenses, he pushed forward and gained leverage—swiftly darting a knee into Neji's unguarded kidneys.

"You can't win in this form," said Neji, who in that moment caught Naruto's knee in a catcher's grip. "And I find it disgusting you think otherwise."

Everything bristled in his system. Desperate to be freed, Naruto wrenched his foot only to feel the stringent grip pull at him. He let out a gasp when Neji twisted his leg. From all around he heard the audience cry out when he flopped back to the floor face-forward. Control completely lost and with the wind knocked out of him, he only faintly heard the host scream a countdown of five seconds. _One_: the pain, like a debilitating shock of trauma. _Two_: the numbness of his own heart. _Three_: the ringing of his ears drowning all other sounds. _Four_: his scratched, lacerated, and eviscerated spirit from Neji's taunts. _Five_: it's over, it's over, and everything is over...he couldn't…

"Winner! Neji Hyuuga!"

Just. Like. That.

He felt his eyes burn. No. No.

"_Naruto, Naruto wake up."_

What's happened? Where…

And in the blink of an eye, he woke with a jolt. Sluggishly, he returned to his senses. The burning pain all over his body never faded, almost identical to what he felt in the dream. Though he experienced an instant relief that at least he could breathe without the smothering falseness of a dream world. Except, he felt hot liquid in his eyes. At once he tried to wipe the wetness out of his eyes, only to feel his arm numb and light. And…to feel a body pressing over him.

"Sasuke?" he gasped, petrified by shock.

Their eyes met. And he felt Sasuke's cool arm draped over his shoulder. A firm yet soft hold. Not only that but his nose was buried in Sasuke's shirt and he breathed in his friend's musky scent. To say he'd been rendered completely disoriented, wouldn't be sufficient: he was struck dumbfounded at their positions. He awoke to Sasuke leaning over the bedside, embracing him; and what's more, Sasuke seemed completely natural about it!

Squirming away, he looked up into Sasuke's discerning expression, the level of concern beyond belief. "Why are we…hugging…?"

"Moron," came the rough reply, "You kept calling me. Over and over again. I didn't know what else to do."

Oh god. Naruto closed his eyes in agonizing embarrassment. What the hell did he say in his sleep? If he could whip away right now he would! Naruto swallowed but with immense difficulty, like he'd been trying to swallow crumbles of dry wood or sand. At least the dim lighting went easy on his eyes, though he noticed Sasuke seemed to be dazed…as if woken from sleep.

Flushing into scarlet, Naruto mumbled, "I did? I had a nightmare…"

"What was it?" Sasuke asked lightly.

"Ah—hah," he wiggled farther away from his friend, "I lost to Neji Hyuuga."

Dark eyes narrowed in confidence. "You won. That day you defeated…"

"_But in this dream I lost_!" he cried out, but upon hearing the high-pitch shrill instead of his own, he grimaced. "My tryouts are soon! How the hell can I show my face to any dojo now? I don't think—"

"I see now…" said his friend, sinking back into his chair.

Naruto cringed. "What…?"

"It's only a body change," murmured Sasuke, exhaustion evident. "I know you'd never let that stop you."

Silence swept in like a breeze. It took many minutes for Naruto to digest the words. Laying now on his back, arms at his sides, and looking up at the ceiling, he considered his ideals. His principles. Of course he'd never let anything stand in the way of his dreams. It didn't matter that he'd been thrust into some freak alternate dimension, being a woman and all, such an obstacle is debilitating…but not absolute. No he couldn't envision a life without his dearest sport. He could envision being completely thwarted as a woman though, but at least he'd be doing what he loved. Proving to everyone what he's made of.

"You're right Sasuke. Maybe you can drive me to the gym tomorrow, ne?" he said at last.

But instead of a response, he heard snoring.

Damn it! Snoring? Naruto raised a hand to smite the other for falling asleep, but…

That expression…Sasuke's perfectly peaceful face, completely passed out and relaxed, stopped him in his tracks. And even lips were parted ever slightly. He'd forgot just how ridiculously soft Sasuke snored—the sound of it very much like a tranquil lullaby. A metronome that was hypnotizing, sweet. Mesmerized, Naruto watched Sasuke sit at the foot of the bed on that wooden chair, with pale arms crossed, and head tilting back as he descended further into slumber.

And thus, his fists dropped to his sides.

"I'll have to train hard," he mumbled to Sasuke's sleeping form, "Being in this form can't be that bad, right?"

Somehow, Naruto felt very unconvinced. His gut told him that life transformed itself to a challenge, transformed into a grueling slimy monster and overcoming it? He didn't know how nor what's in store. But at least he had Sasuke who would never change, nor treat him differently. Even if tonight felt weird: it's only temporary. Right?

_Bzzz._ Phone vibrating. Erratically on Sasuke's nightstand. Naruto propped up on an elbow and reached over for the mobile device buzzing like some trapped bee. His phone. The same one Sasuke salvaged from his place of exile. God Sasuke's the best pal anyone could ask for! Unlocking his home screen, Naruto read the following:

**_14 new voicemails, 25 missed calls_**

Raising a brow, Naruto pressed the speaker to his ear. He listened to the first and last voicemail. "_Naruto, dude it's Kiba! Dude what the fuck! I woke up this morning to see your sister naked. Sleeping on your bed and then she-she-fuck man, where are you?! And you have a sister?"_ Naruto skimmed through and hit the last voicemail. "_Sakura finally called me back. Dude where are you, I'm worried about you man. And it's true, shit. That girl's your cousin or something? How could you hide her from me?! Bro, hit me a text back no one knows where you are."_

How the hell can he...ever go back home? When Naruto disappeared and Naruko took his place?

Naruto's fingers hovered over the keypad on his phone. He had to write Kiba some response, that'd allow him to come home. Even as a woman. With the right explanation, he could sleep in his own bed tomorrow without hassles. But what explanation? What if Naruto never came back?! Stay positive.

In flustered passion, he typed away a message: "Hey. Listen Kiba. Don't scare her away, alright? She's visiting from the States and has my permission to crash the crib." _What about tonight, how can I explain it?_ "Right now we're all at Sasuke's, drunk and wasted and can't drive back. But tomorrow, she's swinging by and is using my room. Don't be a dick." _Where will I be?_ "I might not be back for days. My cousin lost all her luggage and some airport down in LA has a claim on it. I'm going to go get it for her, while still enjoy a sweet trip."

He pressed send. And sighed painfully.


	4. Naruko

A/N: Special big thanks, couldn't have done without AlexConfused and Darkly Dreaming Allie: two amazing betas.

**Chapter Four**

**Naruko**

* * *

She. She. She! She is this. She is that.

That's what everyone's seeing. With their eyes, with their posture, even vocalizing it. Living in the city meant trudging through folk; walking and driving down these roads, man it's intense game. Not bumping into anyone, that is. Can't forget the millions of gazes you meet, each telling a story. Some overall phrase transmitted through the eyes like beams of light. But now, Naruto feels fried to the core—to the bone.

To hell with it. He hates the city, and every god damned person who's ogling. Hell to anyone catcalling. He hates it because two days ago, he didn't feel the sting of anyone's attention; and now, he's feeling roaches crawling up his ankles and shins, he's feeling termites biting into his bones, he's feeling spiders nest in all the voids.

So when Naruto waits for the crosswalk to signal green, some man decides to strike a conversation.

"Miss," says the man politely, with a note of fear, "Do you need help?"

Naruto grinds his teeth. Because he needs help. But this guy can't do anything about it, so Naruto doesn't turn. Doesn't even glance. "No."

As if the 'no' shoots a bullet through the man, he stumbles slightly back. "Are you sure?" the man insisted, the fear from earlier amplifying.

Simply nodding, that's all Naruto's committing to.

"Listen lady – if you're lost, I'll help you."

Oh hell. Hell. Naruto whips so fast, even his own vision's spinning. The term _lady_ is a sharp knife lacerating his forehead, carving 'loser' or 'girly-boy'. They're not petty names anymore. And someone has to pay, someone has to take and bear all the anger and resentment. Because Sasuke went to work, and Itachi's fucking M.I.A—someone has to be the punching bag.

And this guy—he's going to take it all on this innocent man.

"Awh, shit, woman! What the—" cries the man, as Naruto's dragging him forward by the lapels.

"I'm not a lady. Not a woman."

Suddenly the guy gets sarcastic. "Sure you ain't."

"I'm telling not asking." Naruto's burning to the lips, burning in the eyes, and face.

"Calm down, ma'am. Wasn't trying to get your number," the man wheedles, assumes that Naruto's fending off all the beaux with the 'I'm not a woman' excuse. "Just thought you looked helpless."

Helpless. Lady. Almost sounded like the Neji from his dream—taunting. He's not…he's not—oh he'll show helpless lady, if that's what he wants. With a fist of wrath, Naruto clocks the man across the jaw with a free hand. It didn't do anything.

The man just shoves himself off and rubs the affected area. As if Naruto poked him harshly. "Bitch," he breathes. "You're right, you're no lady. Cunt." Shakes his head, and crosses the street.

So dumbfounded. So aghast. Naruto feels his eyes go wide, staring at his hands.

The hands he spent years—blood-stained, sweat-stained—_years_ training. They're supposed to be iron mittens, knuckles made of mammoth bones, black-belt nerves and chi, phalanges and tendons attuned to meditated perfection. And now, the best he's pulling off is a…bitch slap? The nightmare's creeping into reality. Everyone flitting by, thinks he's glaring into his palms like they've got gangrene, or something fatal.

Cars zooming all around, sky's overcast, and he's cold. Crossing the street in late August, and he's cold. Icy tendrils coiling in his bones, wrapping slyly around his heart, and freezing his fingertips. A coldness he'll never be able to shake off. Because Naruko, whoever the hell she is, that's who everyone sees. No matter what he says, they don't see it.

Kind of like Naruto's some ghost possessing a girl's body because everyone's so damned blind. And walking up to his apartment, with the most dread he's ever had in his whole life because he's not sure. He's hearing Neji's voice say, that he should have at least picked an American name such as Cassandra, Jessica, Katie, or Mary. Some name that didn't sound like his own, some name that didn't pretend or mimic the Naruto that everyone once knew.

* * *

Kiba's jumping and twirling corner to corner. He's lighting candles, some are scented and some are just for show. Nervous didn't begin to cover the stretch of foreign emotions overtaking him. He's got to make it up to the girl. House should be spotless, at least, right? Plus women are damned sensitive with their noses, like bitches picking up pheromones—not that he'd ever call them bitches! Not at all, rather, with the right body and face, he's willing to let a girl get away with anything. Bitch or not.

"Shit. This is way too much time I've spent in front of a mirror," Kiba growls to himself.

But every second he's seeing Naruko's perfect rack flash through his imagination—and Kiba fights down the tempting image, because that's Naruto's cousin. Naruto's family. It's just he feels he's got to work hard to match that perfection. He's not out of her league. He's not. He won't woo her, but he's going to have her want him so badly, she's going to do the wooing.

And if he can get Naruko to fall for him, what's _Naruto_ going to do to stop it? His roommate can suck it. She's too beautiful to just…pass up.

As if on cue, the keys are turning. The lock is twisting. She's here, really here.

So quickly, one last time, he fixes the collar of his plaid shirt, and goes to meet her. She looks pissed, but Kiba can't really see under her long splayed bangs. He notices right away she's carrying a duffel bag over her shoulder.

Quick to distract himself by her foul mood, Kiba's by her side, asking, "Let me help you with your stuff."

That's when she lifts her awestriking blue orbs. They're like laser beams of a wrathful Goddess. So he chokes out nervously, "Ah…had a rough night? I've got plenty remedies for those nasty hang overs. If ya need."

"You don't even know," she says.

"Trust me, I've seen some terrible—" Kiba wants to say 'shit', but he's got a charming audience. "Things," he finishes, weakly. Because Naruko's already turning away from him. She masterfully locks the doors, all three of them without any questions asked.

The sounds of the locks, and the fact it's all Naruko's initiative, Kiba feels all heat rushing and angling down. In fact, he'd fantasized how she'd enter the crib, all shy and unsure, and the fantasy of it turned him on. Really, really turned him on. Took care of his not so clean thoughts this morning as he'd pictured her helpless expression and her nude body, thanks to his spank bank reservoir. So for Naruko to do the complete opposite as she charges in, alpha female, no questions asked by slamming the door behind her, Kiba releases nothing but a whuff of anxiety because his pants grow tighter and tighter. He's not thinking about it. At all. His reaction is all Pavlovian.

Beautiful lady, comes to his apartment, locks them in from the rest of the world. Not to mention the same beautiful lady he'd been dreaming of for the last twelve hours. But it's okay, Kiba's practiced in the very sense that he can function perfectly well, if not better, with a half-hard erection. It's fine.

"Listen I uh…I want to apologize," Kiba starts out with a sheepish smile. "For uh, yesterday. We got off the wrong foot. Really didn't mean to make—" again 'shit' bubbled into his throat, "things more awkward."

"I don't care," was her response.

_Damn it_! Everyone knows what 'I don't care' means from a girl. Kiba's feeling his guts flip over. "So you don't want to forget about it and just start fresh?"

She's looking at him like he grew another head. "I said I didn't care, right? We're good."

"Oh. I just thought. Thought you didn't care about me or, or—never mind." He sees she's unraveling the straps of her duffel bag, and quickly he snatches it into his hands. "I'll help. Just tell me where to put it."

"Kiba…"

Was it her soft, musical voice saying his name, which sent shivers down his spine? Or that growl, warning him of her feisty fires? Kiba's own hoarse voice spills the air, "It's fine. So where do you want it?"

"Just chuck it out of the window, I'm ruined anyway," Naruko retorts, but all the anger's directed at herself.

Dumbfounded, it took several seconds for instinct to kick in. "No way. Tell me what's wrong."

"Tell you? How about I show you?"

The question paralyzed Kiba from the waist up. All he could feel is the heat pooling into his loins. "S-show me? Show me what?"

Lots of images flickered in his head. She's going to flash her divine fruits, maybe their lips will crash, and just touching. A lot of touching. He's not _thinking_, he's not even realizing. But her presence alone demolishes reason, her presence is like an ultrasonic brainwashing machine. Enraptured by her beauty like a blinding light, it's hard to look at her straight on, he's got to tilt his vision slightly off to the side.

Naruko closes the distance. She raises her right fist. "_This_."

Her dainty, rather tiny fist is blue and purple. Bruised. Bruises. Kiba drops the bag in favor of holding the damaged hand. "Who the—who did this?" he grates out, turning her hands gently to check for any more abuse. "Give me a name and I'll pay the asshole a visit."

She coughs. It's a cute bumble. Seemingly fine by his touch, Naruko responds flatly, "It was me. Thought I could handle it. Didn't think clocking someone's jaw would feel like a brick wall."

"You? You punched a girl?"

"What, are you crazy? I'd never hit a girl. Just some guy. Kept brown nosing, and I…I guess it was wrong time, wrong place, you know?"

"Oh I know," agrees Kiba, very content that she fended off potential predators. "I can teach you the proper way of how to throw a punch. So next time, you don't get so badly bruised."

Naruko yanks her hand away, as if burned. "I know how to fight," she growls, and it's getting hot in here. "I know how to kick some guy's ass. Obviously, I'm out of my game. Didn't sleep so well. Had a—had a long flight…I'm just stressed, is all."

She's pissed again because she swoops her duffel and storms into Naruto's bedroom. But Kiba's determined, and he chases after her without even aware how fast his feet pedal to keep up.

"I was going to do that," he calls out at her, stubbornly occupying the doorway. Afraid to step over the border. What if she wanted her space? The last thing he's going to do, is disrespect her personal space. She'll want a safe haven, and Naruto's room…he's going to acknowledge it.

But then Naruko's slinging more demands. "The hell did you do with my room? It smells like the damned botanical gardens."

"You like?"

Kiba earns a beautifully blank stare, blue eyes blinking. Then she's lightly smiling, and trying to hide it too. "Dude it's kind of gay, don't you think?" she scoffs, unzipping her bag, "You back on pot or something? Because if you're tryin'ta hide the smell there's cheaper and better ways to do it."

"I…no I'm not," Kiba answers firmly, feeling his heart flutter. "Why, are you against it. Pot, I mean?"

"Come on man, we…I mean, come on. Of course not."

About to launch another question, Kiba stops short.

Naruko's bending over. She's dropped some clothes, and now scoops them up, reaching down low. Bending. Over. He fixates onto her bottom. How the denim jeans stretched taut, hugging perfect legs and rounded flesh mounds. Kiba sighs, feeling tightness in his pants, and it's out of control downstairs. He wants to get behind her, press his hips to hers, and squeeze whatever he can grab ahold of. He wants. He just wants. And he can't…have.

In the next second, Naruko casts a sharp glance his way. "Dude what the hell?"

As if she shot an arrow his way, Kiba stumbles back. He thinks he got caught staring, and flushes deeply crimson. In fact his whole face burns, and it's so unpleasant he's about to turn around and leave and—

"Earth to Kiba. Where are my—I mean…Naruto's clothes? Drawers are empty," she finally straightens up, and gives him a full glare.

"Oh…that."

"Yeah. What the hell else?"

And he thought all his chances were gone. Kiba smiles in triumph much to Naruko's confusion. "Packed all of Naruto's clothes into a garbage bag. Don't worry about it."

"Why the hell did you do that? Did you even ask me—I mean Naruto?"

"Standing orders was to get you settled and make you comfortable. Having a closet and dresser to yourself sounded like a good plan."

"Okay. Where's the garbage bag?"

Now, Kiba's confused. Why would she even be bothered with Naruto's clothes. "In a storage space downtown."

"You…you sent all of it in…"

"I rent a storage room every month. Naruto knows about it, so he'll be cool. When he gets back, I'll withdraw—"

She's shaking her pretty head furiously, before angrily stuffing the drawers with dresses, skirts, and tops. She's muttering curses, puffing out familiar phrases. She's pouting, with the upper trembling in unabashed vexation. She's so similar to Naruto, Kiba almost goes crazy with bewilderment. They must be genetically close, to share these predispositions. He holds back a laugh but not before being pinned with a stunning comment.

"I think Naruto didn't expect you to go out of your way," she remarks stiffly before taking off into the kitchen.

Of course Naruto didn't expect it, because if Naruto expected anything, he'd know how much Kiba wants to bang _her_. But Naruto's too trusting, and naïve. "I'm not going out of my way," he denies but no one's nearby to hear it.

When he enters the kitchen, he finds Naruko rummaging through the pantries like she owns the place. He has to admit, it's a little unsettling, but then seeing her brows slightly scrunch up, and the intensity behind her eyes—Kiba's melting into liquid hot gold. For her. He can watch this person all day, and find new beauties to dwell over, and over details he's never felt a hard-on for ever before. Seeing the slight blush over her cheeks, and the tightness of her petite frame, buzzed his mind like a shot of alcohol. She's bursting with confidence, but not the arrogant kind, the kind that says, 'I own this meat-suit so deal with it'.

Naruko plucks out an instant noodles box. Naruto's favorite flavor, too. She's not really going to follow Naruto's footsteps, is she? But then, suddenly an idea strikes Kiba who unconsciously tightens his fists, restraining his enthusiasm. An epiphany. This. Is. Perfect. She's hungry. If she's anything like Naruto, which he'd been constantly reminded of, then he's already got a map to her heart. If she's like Naruto, then this will be an easy lay for him, because he knew everything Naruto liked, and the formula's quite simple!

"Wait, Naruko."

Fluidly, she comes to a pause. "Yeah?"

"It's practically your first day here, and I feel like we should go out to eat," Kiba explains smoothly, still unable to fully quench his anxiety.

A weird lop-sided grin overtakes her features. "Go _out_ to eat, huh? Does sound special."

"I know some good places. Good, good places."

"Heh," Naruko's rolling her gaze around in thought. "Why not?"

Kiba steps closer, but still keeps a safe distance. "It'll be on me, of course."

Her eyes go wide like she's seeing a ghost. "Let's do it," she whips out eagerly. Her arms waving imaginary pompoms, and he bets she'd make the hottest cheerleader ever. "Holy hell, Kiba sounds really good."

Part of him is clawing for release already, because Naruko expressing herself while saying his name: the turn-on did more than just emblazon his loins. He's gotten tachycardic, and he breathes shallow. All kinds of bodily confusions sweep over him, especially when Naruko sends him a smile. A real genuine one. All the school girls he's ever dated mastered the fake, formal smiles or the fake, hidden incentive smiles. And Naruko's just raw light, beautiful and open.

He should just go to the bathroom right now and take care of the pulsating heat between his thighs. He feels like he's got no choice, he has to. How else will he think objectively, take care of a date in the coolest way possible, if he's plagued with an incessant, primal want?

But then Naruko cuts in with a, "But I gotta catch the new episode of _Supernatural Hunters_. We should go after. Only be a half an hour."

That's Naruto's favorite series. About two brothers fighting evil and monsters, and well it's pretty cool show, he's watched it with Naruto several times.

"You coming?"

_Coming_. Yeah, sounds like that's what he should be doing now. "Actually, I need to use the bathroom."

"Oh cool, have a good one."

Kiba stops breathing. "What?" And then he remembers, it's what Naruto always says right before he goes to take a shit. Naruko must have picked up on that too. "Yeah. Yeah I will," he mutters.

As soon as he's alone in the restroom, Kiba lets out all the haggard pants he restrained. Heavy breathing because he's heavy with want. He's going to make this quick because he's losing excessive time to be with Naruko, precious time. He's been thinking of her incessantly, wanton just to see her again—now it's too much, too overwhelming. She's scarred his mind all night and all day—a thick gash tearing his mind into halves, like a torn artery, spurting thoughts of her uncontrollably. And it's life threatening, he's got to quickly clot up the wounds of not seeing her for so long.

This is crazy. Kiba breathes in agony. Love, lust, desire: they're all melting into one thing, and that's now. The peak is now. He fists himself and pumps, but it's not until he admits the deep self-hatred, the loathing of how low he's dropped, when he's finally able to feel pleasure. He's never wanted _one_ person so badly in his life, and it's his good friend's cousin. And imagining Naruto's fury, and hurt expression, Kiba groans—shit!

Shit. He likes forbidden fruit. He likes Naruko, and then he likes how she's off limits. He's climbing to an orgasm like a quick ascension on the stair-master, so good, so efficient—and then, and then—

A phone goes off in the living room. Naruko's voice reaches his ear. "Hello? Finally you call me back. What the hell Sasuke?"

Kiba freezes. All over. Freezing to the bone, eyes petrified too. From his isolated experience in the bathroom, he could hear her through the thin walls. Not good. Hearing Sasuke's name, it's never good.

"Yeah, you left," she's biting out, "Just left me. Ever heard of a note?"

Quickly, Kiba zips his pants, and shuffles out the door. The tent his loose pants make over his groin hides his bursting erection, especially as he fruitlessly tucks it between his thighs. He doesn't get his release, yet his body moves on its own, needs to intervene. Needs to know, what's going on in his own territory. Jealousy, heated curiosity, whatever the hell it is, it's controlling his body entirely. Sasuke can't get involved.

As soon as Kiba rushes into the living room, Naruko glances at him appraisingly. She lifts her brows, questioning silently, '_you took a good shit'_? Exactly like how his roommate would. It's too perfectly copied, and Kiba almost feels like he's with Naruto. Almost.

Especially as her high pitched, cute voice cuts in sharply, chiming into the microphone of her cellular, "Well I'm back at the crib with Kiba, so…the hell are you saying? Sasuke…no…no…I'm not coming back, no. I'm staying here."

Suddenly, Kiba feels his heart pound. Staring helplessly at Naruko's figure, as she's all sprawled on the couch—an impeccable portrait of comfortable and sweetly relaxed, with her long legs stretched out without care. Thick thighs enough to devour, lining into thin calves. A perfect curvature. And then there's her bare feet resting on the edge of the couch, twitching sporadically in obvious anxiety. Small feet, toes bare and innocent. There's nothing harsh about them, they're really dainty and soft looking. And it's fucking weird because Kiba doesn't have a foot fetish but he'll give her hour long foot massages just because every part of her is worth it.

As Naruko argues with the phone—with Sasuke—she tenses slightly. "I get that. I get you needed to get back to work. The hell do you take me for? Exactly, yes. Normal, that's what I want too. So here I am where I should be, and anyway, it's good 'cause Kiba and I are going out to eat."

That's when her jaw squares, and a dark cloud hovers over her brows. "Why wouldn't I say yes? Dude it's free food. Obviously if he offered." A long pause. "Sasuke…come on man, you got a problem with Kiba or something?"

_That's it_. Kiba presses forward, and stretches an arm out. "Naruko, give me the phone. Now."

She sits comfortably, lazily, looking at him with a daring expression.

So Kiba just snatches it out of her hands, and takes the phone. Words burn off his lips automatically, like God struck him with the right senses. "Yo, Sasuke."

Sasuke's voice shuts to an abrupt halt. "_You_."

"Yeah, me," he drawls out mockingly, and Naruko shoots him a glare. "What's up. Listen man, Naruko and I are already on the way to dinner, so it's a little late for complaints."

There's a long pause before Sasuke demands, "_Where?"_

"Corner of Kinokuyu and West Ninth. But you need reservations, and it's a couples only establishment."

The line clicks. Sasuke hung up. And Kiba grins, feeling his lips spread like a permanent branded mark. He's smiling at Naruko, who's his for tonight. Not Sasuke's, not Naruto's, but his.

Naruko rests quietly, with lots of twitching. All over her perfect body. Until finally she breaks the air with, "Missed the best parts of the episode," she complains, almost moans.

_Supernatural Hunters_: the episode's done, and credits are rolling.

Kiba manages to make room to sit by Naruko's cute little feet. Wedges in between her legs, without much hassle. It's heaven. To be between her feet, like V.I.P access. He wants to tell her how much he appreciates her comfortable nature, her hospitality. Then he reconsiders, and bites back the desperation creeping up his throat, and instead hands her back the cellphone. Better to look cool, and sound mysterious, not reveal every thought or word he's got to say.

When he settles between her ankles, Kiba finally musters enough courage to ask, "So. Sasuke. You two…you two have something—something going on?"

"Just best friends, you know that."

Since when is any guy best friends with drop dead gorgeous blondes. "Yeah? I uh, wonder if Sasuke feels the same."

Naruko fumbles with the remote before shooting him a calculative look.

The intensity of her eyes sends Kiba almost stammering out, "So, you dressed? Because I'm ready."

"Course I'm dressed, don't you see that."

He's grateful that Naruko's not over-thinking girlish fantasies. Outfits, shoes, accessories, or make-up especially, not seeming to care for any of it. She's down to earth. Probably senses her outrageous beauty and realizes even if she's wearing rags, she'll be the most gorgeous woman around. Her skin's practically radiating with divine essence, and Kiba can't get enough of seeing it—he wants to touch her soft skin, caress her.

"Let's go," he urges, but he can't seem to get the energy to get up. He doesn't want to break free from contact, even if it's just her feet touching him.

Naruko groans, throwing her head back. "Yeah. Fine. I'll just look up the episode online later." After her whines, she snaps up, shifting into tripod position. "You driving, or me?"

"Me." It's almost offensive to suggest otherwise.

"Ya sure?"

Naruko's so different. It's like being awakened under a cold waterfall. That's how refreshing she is. "Yeah. I'm sure. Let's go."

So they are actually, really walking together out of the apartment. They turn off all the lights behind them. Naruko isn't even double-taking, but god-to-honest casually walking with him. To the stairs, without complaint. He's following after her enthusiastic speed however, her energy isn't easy to match up to. Breaking out of the building. Breaking out into the streets of the city. Kiba's right behind her. It's not her ass he's staring at, but her aura, her pull. Like they've known each other for years, and this date's a natural part of their lives. They're meant for each other.

Somehow, she recognizes his car before he can and waits beside it. Must have been the cocky, sudden know-it-all expression which set him off.

"Let's walk there," Kiba suggests, spreading his arms wide open.

As they stroll down several blocks, Kiba feels his hand gravitate to hers. Their hands swing in opposite yet parallel motions, almost touching. Grazing. Next thing he knows, he catches her hand in the moment, and holds it gently in his. The moment…it's unreal, almost can't believe it! He's holding her hand. Not the bruised one, but the good one. Chewing on cotton candy couldn't compare to the sweetness of this moment, except, except well—

Naruko whips her hand away from him. "What are you doing?" she asks. As if she's from another country and holding hands is against her religion.

"Nothing. Forget it."

It's not nothing. Naruko glows with suppressed concern. "Are you okay, man? I mean is there something you got to tell me?"

He should have kept the small talk going. Ask questions about her and Naruto, because that's _safe_. Safe topics, in which either party doesn't get hurt or offended. But instead Kiba's guts boil with this never ending spiral of curiosity. The smidgen of jealousy left unattended becomes a giant in the area.

"Last night, what happened?" he prods, and it feels awkward, even scary like holding a scalpel. Because he's burning to ask, what happened between you and Sasuke. But stops short.

She looks at him inquisitively, under her flaxen bangs. "Slept and ate. The usual nothing special."

They cross several blocks, quietly. But Kiba's mind shouts, flips, and cries. It's not until they get to the Café, waiting to be seated that he bursts with the dangerous questions.

"And you stayed with Sasuke the whole time." Is she going to deny or affirm?

Naruko shrugs. "Bastard locked me in his room the whole night, so…"

"What?" Lightning fury. Kiba bares his teeth, reels her close. "Where the hell was Naruto?"

Deep sorrow pierces her expression like a puncture wound; exactly what he feared. She furrows her brows and frowns. "Naruto was already gone," she says.

And now he's feeling a panic, an anger welling in his chest. Her confession and her piercing sadness—the combination implies Sasuke tried something. Sasuke fooled around, got his fill of her. The same trusted Sasuke who takes advantage of her the moment Naruto's gone. Scarcely, Kiba takes his seat across from Naruko at their table, because he almost swore he'd burn the chair, especially how he's sprouting horns and lava plumes.

The waitress hands him and her a menu, but his fists are shaking.

"Made it for the lunch special, nice," Naruko remarks. Frown's already turned upside down into a bright smile, almost enough to soothe.

Did Naruko fall for Sasuke's cold exterior, like the rest of them?

"Yo, have you tried this—looks good, but I don't know—"

She's pointing to something, and all he can really look at are her bruised knuckles. What if Sasuke's the reason? Then she gave him what's coming. "Yeah it's good," he dismisses, finally returning to the current reality.

"Alright. I'm good to order then."

He hopes Naruko didn't consent to anything. He doesn't want to share her, not with anyone. Not with Sasuke. And he's not letting Sasuke's irresistible, aloof, mysterious air contaminate Naruko's good soul. Look at the damage Sasuke's ill charms has done to Sakura—she's damaged goods, he knows because Kiba's tried it with Sakura. Tried and failed because she's got a blackhole sucking up all the good things in her chest. Yeah. Despite her amiable, pure nature, Sakura's whole being revolves around one ice-cold bastard, and she's festering underneath a pretty shell. She decomposes, her soul withers, and she's just infertile to new love. Obsessed with Sasuke, even after all these years like Sasuke implanted a chip in her brain programming her to be his forever. The scary part is, there are others not just Sakura. Point is, Sasuke's reputation with women's downright cold and dark and Kiba doesn't want to risk it. Not with Naruko.

When the waitress comes round, she takes their menus and orders. "Alright, thank you!" the waitress affirms, before spinning away into the kitchen.

"Got a sour face on," Naruko teases.

Kiba forces a small smile. "Sorry."

"Just spit it out, dude. What's eating you?"

"It's…" damn it, this is not safe conversation. Getting into her pants isn't top priority anymore, but knowing the truth is. He wants to know. "Just you told me how Sasuke locked you into his room. And well, uh, I want to know if you guys…if he tried anything. You know."

Naruko's brows shoot to her hairline. "What? No. Hell, no, come on man. Sasuke and I are friends—"

"Yeah you said that. I just wanted to make sure."

"—and I don't even think I swing that way. Never thought about a guy…like that. Just weird. Not that I'm against people who do or anything, but personally never myself, okay I'll shut up now."

At the words, Kiba loses control. The glass he's holding suddenly slips through his hands. Cold icy water spills everywhere, and pools on the table, even dripping onto his lap. His chest tightens, while his jaw loosens, mouth hanging agape.

"You're a lesbian?" That came out so wrong.

That's when Naruko, looking as shocked as he, blinks. "I uh…like girls. I—shit, I guess that does make me a lesbian."

Lesbian. Could this get any more exotic? More challenging? And she's a virgin. She's never given a man a chance, and if Kiba's her first, she'll be hooked. This is heavenly game—virgin, lesbian girl. He doesn't care what Naruko's done with other girls, only that no man has ever had the honor of converting her. It's an honor. He's not letting Sasuke in this race.

"Something's wrong with you," mutters Naruko, wiping the table down. "All spacey and shit. Like I'm talking to a fun house mirror."

"S-sorry."

She stares at him pensively, before murmuring, "Geez, you're really bad. I already lost count on the sappy apologies. It's like I'm with a different Kiba."

"Listen Naruko," Kiba responds, flattening his palms on his side of the table. "I need you to promise me something."

"And what's that?"

That's when Kiba boldly reaches for her hand, clasping it. "Watch your back. Sasuke, he's just—he's just bad news, okay?"

Naruko snorts, "Thought you two made peace." Then she sees how serious his tone is. And she shakes with nervous laughter, like she's not sure where to take this. "Okay…so how exactly is Sasuke bad news?"

After a brief pause, Kiba opens his mouth to answer. However, someone else beats him to it.

"Go on, mutt. Enlighten us."

Shit, shit, shit. It's Sasuke. Looming up from behind, Sasuke glides over to Naruko's side. Kiba meets the stone cold slabs of his narrowed eyes—and in that second, they exchange their thoughts like warring countries firing missiles at one another. Even though Sasuke masterfully stationed by her, he doesn't break the daring eye-contest. Whoever looks away first, is the beta male in this. Whoever holds the gaze longest, is the alpha dog, and Kiba's no beta male.

Crazy, how just as thought of that, Sasuke momentarily breaks their gaze, and glances down. Sees Kiba's hand wrapped over Naruko's. That's when the icy shroud sharpens into deadly arrows, as Sasuke's unhappy expression flattens into barren arrest.

"Uchiha," he grinds out the name like its bitter dirt.

Oblivious to the tension, Naruko whips her hand away from Kiba. Instead, she claws at the hems of Sasuke's fancy shirt. Like a beautiful, but petulant kid. "Come on. Sasuke. Hurry and order before you miss the special." She doesn't like being ignored. "Hey. Sit down, would you?"

"I'm not ordering anything," Sasuke quips, before he gets yanked down, and drops beside Naruko on the booth.

"You're not going to eat?"

"No. I need to talk with you. Outside."

They're sitting side by side, Naruko's blonde fluffy head just coming up to Sasuke's shoulder. And Kiba thinks, if only he had sat there, then Sasuke could never have gained access. Of course he never imagined Uchiha'd show up like the terminator, straight down to business. The mission is clear. It's so damn clear. Just by how close Uchiha gets with her. Just by the way Sasuke sharply cross examines him—he feels penetrated deeply—as if Kiba is some poor sap sitting down for an interview, as if he's got no right to be with her here.

But tension becomes so viscous, especially when Naruko dismisses Sasuke. "I'm starving. Food's about to come out and—man, can't you just say it here?"

The stoic, icy expression instantly melts into a piercing scowl. Briefly, Sasuke glances his way, and Kiba squares his jaw at the sudden eye contact. He's not letting Sasuke dominate this date. Alpha dog status belongs to him, and he's fighting down the urge to bite the guy's head off. He narrows his own eyes as a warning signal, similar to how rattle snakes quiver their tails before an attack. And if Sasuke doesn't get the message, he's going to fire off away, all defenses. Because Sasuke might have his way bullying women, manipulating clients, and subjugating strangers with charm—but Kiba, like Naruto, can blunt all of that with ardor and ferocity.

"Yeah." Kiba leans forward, grinning. "Say it here."

Sasuke refuses to look at him. Opts, rather, to lean closer to her, whispering into her ear. The gesture infuriates Kiba, who's sitting on edge, feeling on edge. Ready to lash out.

"But…can you maybe…maybe, just wait? Okay? Ten minutes," she says, fixing a pout designed to win any negotiation.

"Don't be an idiot."

He knew Sasuke bullies. Emotionally picks on girls. Kiba intervenes, "Seriously Uchiha? I swear if you start that with Naruko…I won't sit and watch. You hear?"

A flicker of shock overtakes Sasuke like a wave. "I won't sit and watch either," comes the smooth reply, rough with stress.

And next thing he's seeing, is just fucking unbelievable. Sasuke gets up, masterfully grabs ahold of Naruko's petite shoulder, and man handles her up and out of the restaurant. They leave so fast, and with such shrouded passion—everyone dining, thinks it's some lovely romantic heat. Even Kiba's stupefied at the burst of energy. However, after the initial shock, he's storming after the most captivating couple—totally enraged at how Uchiha could pull a maneuver such as that, especially so aggressively. He's hurting her with that kind of aggression.

On his way out, after dropping forty bucks on the table, he sees Sasuke dragging Naruko down the street—making good distance. He wants to yell out, call Naruko's name, but it's too overboard. So Kiba sprints after them. And he's about to get caught up too, until Sasuke sharply turns the next corner, shoving her into a tucked away, discreet alley.

At once they disappear out of sight, and Kiba's about to round the corner, and dive into that alley. But he stops short. He hears them exchange heated verbatim, and he freezes.

"Damn it Sasuke, what the fuck!"

"Exactly. I said stay at my house. Supposed to be getting rest. You…it's always the opposite with you."

"I got enough rest."

"So you go to Kiba? After what's happened? Next time think about coming to me first."

Hearing this, Kiba feels his knuckles whiten with blazing tension. The implications are endless…but ultimately, Sasuke is one controlling asshole.

Naruko's voice is strained. "You're really mad over this?"

"Mad." A word that sounded foreign on Sasuke's tongue. "No."

"Because man, I mean, you just leave for work without a word. So what am I supposed to do? Sit in your room, wait for you, get all fucking depressed, and shit? You don't even have good cable! How was I going to watch my show?"

When Sasuke's silent, Naruko laments, "Okay, so. Well thanks for ruining my dinner I guess. I mean, since you impulsively decided you wanted to talk."

That's when Sasuke's cool and level tone counters. He simply drawls, "You really don't see it."

"What? See what?"

"I'm wasting my time…"

"Sasuke! What the hell am I not seeing?"

There's shuffling noises. Sounds of clothes being flapped around. Kiba assumes the worst: that Sasuke pinned her down like a bully. Heart racing, adrenaline coursing in his veins, he feels his surroundings blur into tunnel vision like a spell. As soon as Kiba darts into the alley, he sees the complete opposite. He sees Naruko fisting a tight grip over Sasuke's collar.

Both of them turn their heads Kiba's way.

"K-Kiba—" Naruko stammers out, with a guilty tone promising some explanation.

However, in that moment, Sasuke swoops a hold of her wrists tightly: effectively shutting her up. And in one swift, fluid motion, Sasuke shoves her dainty hands down to her sides, as a punitive way of restraining her—without ever letting go, keeping them there.

Bubbling with fury, Kiba cuts across the distance in no time. "Let her go. Now."

"Lost your way, mutt?" humors Sasuke, expression steeling into icy dismissiveness. "Better run back to the kennel, before animal control puts you down for derangement."

"You—you seriously better watch it. Unless…unless you want to spend a night together in the slammers, because I don't give a _fuck_! "

"Very frightening, but I've already got my rabies shot."

His nails dig into his palms, drawing blood. "How fucking low are you. Naruto's not here…so you just—what the hell, man?"

Spitefully, Sasuke yanks her a few steps forward, as if showing off who's in control. He raises a cool, calculative brow. "And you're a mutt in heat. So I don't need to ask the reason for your courting behaviors."

The bomb's dropped. Spiky and painful words, completely exposes him to Naruko, whose grimacing deeply. She's not even looking at either of them, just training a pensive, befuddled stare on the concrete. And if it weren't for her, Kiba felt he'd lose his mind too because Sasuke knew how to cut deep. The bastard wields words like a katana, implants and slashes like a brain-ninja.

However, now, he aches: not over the words. Not over the sarcastic, condescending tone. It's…it's Naruko's eyes slanting in pain, sending him over the edge. Her cheeks flushing. Her bruised knuckles being squished in Sasuke's crushing grip. She's wincing terribly, and probably realizes that this is why she crosses guys off her to-do list.

"Uchiha. Stop. You're hurting her," he bites out, hoarsely. Hoarse, because, he's not feeling pain over himself, but for someone much more vulnerable than he is.

"No, no. Hell I'm not hurting. I'm fine!" quickly Naruko intercedes, assuring. But her wince is there.

Kiba sees her pain blaring like siren lights. "Don't lie. Don't let him get you thinking that it's okay, Naruko." She stares with bewilderment, so Kiba glares at Sasuke. "Because the abuse stops here, Sasuke you prick. Naruto's not here, but I am, and I won't stand for this shit."

Sasuke's dark gaze clouds over with confusion—especially at the word 'abuse'. "What are you talking about?" he asks lowly.

"I'm talking about your games, man," Kiba snaps like a band that's been stretched too far, "She's not buying your asshole-jerk personality, so you're actually becoming physically fucking abusive. Like purposefully grabbing her injured hand, so you can scare her into place."

As if shocked by a jolt, Sasuke releases her instantly. His clouded dark eyes flicker over Naruko's mottled, purple fist. At the sight, his lips thin into an unhappy frown—and demands an explanation from Naruko.

Instead, Naruko just stands there. Arms dangling weakly at her sides, and her hair's sticking to her face from sweaty anxiety. "What the…what the hell is with you two," she croaks, mostly in perplexity. As if torn in some dilemma, she swallows nervously when he and Sasuke drill demanding looks. "Look, Kiba. Not sure how you got to that weird conclusion, but Sasuke's just looking out for me. And Sasuke uh," she slowly steps away, "you should probably go. Call after work, or something…I mean if there's any news."

Bells ring. Petals of triumph flutters around. Light somehow intensifies, shining down onto this alley. Kiba's breath hitches, her voice reverberating the words like a shotgun at the start of the race. _Sasuke should go_. He loves—loves—Naruko now for putting her foot down and standing up to the prick. In fact, Kiba gulps down the urge to wrap her protectively and kiss her. Especially when Sasuke closes his eyes briefly in frustration; Kiba notices how tense Sasuke's neck stiffened into. Lean muscles twitching, like chords disturbed and vibrating.

"I give you two days," says Sasuke, frustration evident in its finest, miniscule form, as his eyes darken. "Two days before you're calling me for help. Good luck, moron."

Naruko energizes into surprise, breathing quickly. "But—but what did I do? I was just saying you should get back to work…I mean, hell." She pats her forehead like the confusion is giving her a headache. Until, that is, Uchiha brushes past her and walks into the street. Naruko pads after him, calling out, "Sasuke what—wait, where—okay_, fine you bastard_! Don't have lunch with me—thanks for ruining my day!"

City folk bustling all around sent ill looks her way. They probably think she's yelling after her broken up lover, who abandoned her; and if they knew Sasuke's reputation with women, they'd know that was exactly the case. However, Naruko didn't seem to notice or care. Instead, she's panting and cussing under her breath. Of course, Kiba glides over to her side, and inspects her profile, closely. When she's riled up, there's a different kind of beauty coming out of her pores—and that insane wanting, craving to touch her, and reassure her, comes back full force.

"Hey, hey. Come on," Kiba prompts gently, bending his head down slightly to catch her gaze. "This is one of Sasuke's games. He obviously wants you to chase after him."

"Doesn't make sense," she pretty much sighs.

"Don't try to make sense out of it. What's important is you don't call him back, you hear?"

At that, she snaps up. "That's just ridiculous." Sadness dawns over her like a thick veil. Deep, deep sadness that couldn't possibly relate to this trivial moment in time. "As usual Sasuke gives me no credit. You saw that right? Two days, really. You know I can go longer than that. In fact, I don't need his damned help or his damned attitude."

Kiba bites his cheek, hard. Damn it. "You…you and Sasuke. You two know each other for more than a night, is that it?"

"Yeah. Of course," she scoffs in a matter-of-fact tone, "Apparently he's the reason I'm like this. The reason you're seeing me right now."

Lost. Utterly lost at what she means by. He guesses with dread, "You flew out here for this prick? Naruko…why..." _you're lesbian, and there's no way you could possibly be close friends with an asshole, especially long distance_, he wants to add.

"Got his little diary with me. With all his confessions in it," she murmurs with glee. "That should cheer me up while I find a way to get back."

Diary? Sasuke has a diary? He asks her, but Naruko spaces out. She really spaces out, as if falling into a dream with her eyes open. They walk back to the apartment, as she's stuck in some trance. Maybe a little too quiet because he feels unnerved by her sudden placated air, since she's so damned neutral. She's also swaying slightly, like the part of her brain responsible for balance is on hiatus. Then he thinks, he's probably going to have to cook. Feed her, pamper her, and make her forget about Sasuke.

Tonight, he'll give her his signature massage—and…

"_Oh Kiba,_" he imagines she'd moan. "_Strong hands. No woman could ever compete. Lower, please. Lower! I need you there._"

In this fantasy, he'll tease her a little. Rub her thighs, and get her all hot and slick. Until he can't hold back anymore, he'll graze the tips of his fingers over her dripping pussy, causing her to shiver. He wouldn't prepare her yet. He'd eat her first. Taste her juices, get her to climax at least once before any penetration. And…

"Dude, did you check the mail recently? My class schedule's supposed to come in soon." Naruko unhappily shuffles through the letters in their mailbox. "Damn it. It's not in here. Shit, just real shit. Now I gotta actually get on the internet and all."

Reality's not as sexy. Naruko isn't even looking at him, but at envelopes. Then suddenly he realizes what she's said. "What? Are you talking about Naruto's class schedule? Haven't seen it, no."

He follows her up the stairs. And gears back into his fantasy.


	5. Engaged

Betas: AlexConfused, Darkly Dreaming Allie

* * *

**Chapter Five **

**Engaged**

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Naruko, open up," he pleads, because any more of the silent treatment and he'll burst.

But she's locked herself into Naruto's room. Without a peep or word, she's withdrawn into the alcove, and he knocks again.

"Listen Naruko, I just want to—" he's lying through his teeth, and desperate, "do you want water? Something to eat?"

For over twenty hours—or was it two, he couldn't tell— she's cooped herself up in the room. And she'd just keep telling him to go away. At first, he shrugged off her callous rejections as perfectly normal, but now he's persistent to see her. To feel her, know she's alive and breathing—in a word, he misses her radiance.

Ever since the Sasuke debacle…

Worst of all, no matter what he offers: to light candles for her, cook breakfast, go shopping for anything she might need…there's just silence on the other end. Unnerving, gooseflesh rendering silence.

Kiba inhales a frustrated whuff of breath before offering his heart through the wretched door.

"Naruko," crushing so hard_, _he confesses, "Listen, you listening? It's beautiful out. We should go exploring, or something. Maybe to the park or the skating rink. Or we could go to the planetarium, and then maybe go out to eat—"

"_Ah!_"

The world shivers. The world fades to static.

What the hell—what in Heaven's name—was that sound?

Heartbeat thickens like drums in his throat, as he scarcely gets out, "Are you okay?"

Pressing his ear flat against the door, he hears no more. Was like he imagined the yelp of pain. Should he burst through the door? Just when he thought he hallucinated the sound, he hears it again.

"_Damn, oh," _her muffled cry resonates through the wood of the barrier.

White noise of a shower running reaches his ears, and he leans forward, hearing her beautiful voice.

Did she fall in the shower? Panicking, Kiba wrenches the knob violently. Locked out. He reaches for the key sitting over the mantle, and with jitters coursing through him, hardly is he able to open the door without stumbling in like a fool. As if electrocuted he hobbles over to the bathroom, with its entrance parted open.

He cautiously enters, like he's afraid a ghost will jump him. However, only steam greets him in wafts, mingling with the scent of a rather—masculine body wash, in fact the same AX sports wash he uses.

At once he sees her silhouette behind the shower curtains. Her curves, her profile. And standing behind the cream veil, is a shadow of elegance. Beauty. The lines of her cleavage, and how perfectly it slopes to a thin midriff, then widening into her hips. The whole portrait was art, and the steam, the scent, all of it art.

He forgets why he barged in the first place.

Except he sees the ethereal shadow of a goddess move. All's well, it seems. But to be sure…

He chokes out, embarrassed to the point of rubbing his neck raw, "Hey, Naruko, are you okay?"

That's when a horrific scream, a goosebump wrenching scream tears from behind the curtain.

"What the hell, Kiba," her head pops out from the curtain, and he's never seen her so angry, "What are you doing in my room?"

"I just—" oh hell what has he done?

"Can I get some god damned privacy for hell's sake?" snaps Naruko, her hair dripping, and her whole expression sopping wet. You could hear her all sore.

Flushing, he steps back. "Just heard some sounds. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

Her mouth hangs, until she gathers her bearings. "You heard nothing," she sputters out.

"But—I mean, okay. Listen, I really am sorry. For you know, walking in on you."

There's a very tense long moment of silence. Only the soft noise of a torrenting shower and warm steam sweeps between them.

While the rest of her's cloaked behind the polka dotted shower curtain, her flushed expression is fully exposed to him. He soaks in her expressive vulnerability like a sky of constellations, how each quiver her brow, and the dripping trails of water amplifies her tension. Her stretched neck, inviting, glistening, and elegant like a swan. All of her quiet beauty contrasts the fury of her scowl.

But she keeps a discerning stare fixed upon him, as if considering him. An accusatory stare, passing a final judgment: that he's a pervert. And that he's obsessed with her. He's getting demoted, and he knows it, because why else does he feel shame beat down on him like knives?

Finally she quirks an unhappy brow, and says, "You can go now."

"Naruko," he murmurs, to which she grimaces almost in pain, "are you really okay?"

"Kiba."

He holds his breath.

"I'm. Showering."

Still holds his breath. There's more. There's got to be more.

"Will you please just get out?"

Like glass, he feels his own anticipation shatter. "I was just worried," he mutters.

She squeezes a fistful of that curtain. "Are you being completely serious right now?"

He could see her mood shuttling into piss faster than he could apologize again. So he turns to leave. And he hears her sigh in relief.

* * *

"Naruko, are you hungry? I brought you a slice of pie."

Two days? He couldn't even last _one_. Still, Naruto keeps his back against the bedroom door. Feels the door rumble with each of Kiba's knocks. And he's actually afraid that Kiba might use the key again.

"Naruko, you haven't eaten—" says the persuasive voice of his roommate, "It's from a French bakery. You're going to love it."

Sasuke would laugh, rub in salt in the humiliating wound. Already, Naruto sees the universal "I told you so" taunting expression rippling through the haze of embarrassment.

"I'm going to leave it next to the door," says Kiba.

Finally, Naruto sighs in relief, just when he thought he'd have to—

"Come out and say hi to Akamaru, just brought her back from my sister's. Don't you want to…"

"_Leave me alone,_" snaps Naruto, and mentally it's a roar. A lion's roar, threatening for dominance. But physically, he hears a blood-curling wail of a teenaged girl.

Immediately, Kiba cajoles, "Okay, okay fine."

Naruto clenches up, whispering. "Thank you."

"Hey what about—"

Feels his heart ram against the ribs. Because Sasuke's words quickly bubbled to the surface. Sasuke's words ring like sirens. Ever since the moment he caught the lustful look in his roommate's eyes…the moment…he's felt repulsion. Mechanical repulsion. Gravitational no-no, as the very winds between him and his roommate scar and push apart.

That is, after Kiba had sent such a pointed, almost pornographic gaze his way, their dynamic's collapsed. To see your favorite skyscraper, crumble to ruins, it was surreal—hauntingly painful. As their dynamic's now a pile of detritus.

And worst of all, Sasuke saw this—this flirtatious smothering—before he could.

"Do you really want me to leave?" asks Kiba, sounding so heart broken, so in pain, you'd think Naruto threw a grenade at the sap.

That's just it. He screws up in a wince, can't help it. The truth is, Kiba leaving for an hour won't change anything.

"No it's okay," Naruto manages, although with each word, a brick's unloading off the chest, "I'm leaving."

Not just bricks of burden unloading, but the trampling elephant too. Unreal happiness shoots in his veins. _Free_. He's going to soar out of this prison.

"_What_?"

That's when Naruto opens the door. Grinning ear to ear, confidence newfound and growing. Even as he faces the friend he's lost over this woman's body.

"I'm leaving, Kiba."

Looks like when you're a woman, people don't take no as answer. No's not as serious.

"Don't be irrational," Kiba whips out, "You're not thinking straight!"

In fact, Naruto raises the bag he's packed for emphasis. "I am. And come on, don't tell me I'm irrational. Look at you, for hell's sake. You haven't given me peace since I've—" he snorts back the truth, and instead laughs, "listen, there's something I gotta tell you. Something I oughta have mentioned earlier."

At this point Kiba's sweating, there's beads of anxiety trickling down the temples and under a ruffled brow.

"What is it?" he cries out.

"The truth is Kiba…"

As if bearing the pain of a thousand whiplashes, Kiba winces in anticipation.

"The truth is what?"

"Truth is—truth is, I—Naruto is—" god damn it, the truth is, he doesn't have a clue, that's what. "Naruto's not coming back. Not soon, at least."

You should have seen Kiba right then. Like you just told the man he's got children in another country or something, or you told the sap the sky's falling—just something completely unbelievable and extreme.

"What?"

And Naruto scratches his head, nervously. For all of a damned sudden, this is starting to feel like a break-up.

"This is the last month of the lease. And Naruto's not coming back, there's just no point in sticking around—"

"You stay here, got it? Let me talk to Naruto first."

Just when you weren't hot for a conversation, they're all hot.

"Kiba just listen will ya—"

"What do you mean he's not coming back for hell's sake?" Kiba's even rubbing his face from sudden anxiety, "Is Naruto alright? I need to talk to him."

Being vague's his only option now. "He's fine ya hear? Even though he just got fired from work and—a lot of shit happened, okay?" shit, that's a hot one, "a lot of god damned shit happened and Naruto—and me—are just gonna hitch it with our Godfather."

"You don't mean Jiraiya."

Now, Naruto sinks back in stupor at the sudden serious tone. "Old Jiraiya's reliable and he's all we got right now. Naruto and me, that's all who we got right now, and he's not too bad. I mean he does have an odd smell at home—"

"Condoms, lube and sex, that's what his house smells like."

"What the god damned hell's the matter with you?"

Kiba starts pacing around in complete panic. "Listen, I've been over there before. He has whores there all the damned time, and Naruto said you could go? Do you even know what you're getting into?"

"So what, dude?" counters Naruto, raising both brows, "His business is his business, I'm just looking for a bed to shack in until I can work for my own place. Besides, they're not whores, don't be a screwball."

"Then what in the hell are they?"

"They're…" man, Kiba has no idea, "Jiraiya's girlfriends. He's a polyamorous fella. And he just needs inspiration for his books and all. I can respect that."

"Naruko, stop please. Just stop."

Kiba's the one running in circles for hell's sake, and Naruto's the one getting told to stop. The hypocrisy grinds at him all teasingly.

"You need to relax right now," Naruto tries to say, but to no avail.

"Relax? He's going to bed you too, Jiraiya, you know? That's what I'm all nervous for, the man's a famous pervert. A god damned unscrupulous pervert."

Suddenly he wants to puke. The image. You couldn't imagine. And suddenly he's also annoyed as hell, because Jiraiya would never stoop so low. Not his own Godfather—and he's almost dumbfounded at the accusation.

"Listen, man. You're an ace," Naruto tells him, and he's really sorry for this, "Top on my deck, you hear? But I'm leaving now. You were a great pal, and it was good shooting the bull with you and all, but I really do need to go."

And just as he reaches the door, Kiba throws himself between him and the exit.

"Naruko," he pants like the man ran for miles, just to intercept. "Let me drive you at least, please."

Somehow the word 'please' make him crazily more depressed. He was depressed before, but hearing please, just sounded so off. He couldn't explain it.

"I need to print something out first," he admits to Kiba, "Right by Sasuke's office, an important paper, can you drop me off there?"

As if delegated with an important task, Kiba tips his head up in a salute.

"Of course, my lady. Let me fetch the keys. Go. You wait for me outside by the carriage."

Even though the whole thing's said in jest, and in a cutesy joke, Naruto just blinks. Because you had no idea, he's not used to Naruko yet. People seeing him as a subject to be cutesy with in the first place, it was weird—and fake too. Really fake, like he's in a costume playing Naruko, but to be actually thought of as Naruko—that really irked him.

And what's worse, the whole car ride was chock full of those terrible, unfunny cutesy jokes.

Naruto couldn't wait to get out of the car. It was a marathon of one bad joke after the other—with cheesy 80's music blasting on the radio. He's wondering what kind of woman could put up with that, and then the real punchline here: is Naruto always played these cheesy games with women too, but he never knew it'd be this torturous to put up with.

Anyway, the point is, by the time he made it to city square—he clambered out the car with so much excitement, he almost tripped. Really. You could have lost your own mind to have a cellmate like Kiba, just don't ever get locked up with the sap, and don't be a woman either.

Surprised at 'Naruko' taking all her bags, Kiba doesn't hesitate to blow off the cap. "Wait, I thought I was going to drive you to Jiraiya's?"

"Ah well you see, Kiba," Naruto defends, stepping back as he speaks just in case his roommate might snatch at him, "The bus stop's right here anyway. I always wanted to try Japan's amazing busses, you know? So thanks so much. You're a pal."

For some unnerving reason, Kiba stares expectantly.

_What now_?

"Okay, so bye Kiba," he waves, hoping his friend would just drive off now.

"Naruko," says the other, all breathless, as if drained, and that's getting really annoying, "you never uh—gave me your number."

So that's it, huh. All this for a number, and he couldn't help feel all wry.

"My phone broke, sorry. It broke and Sasuke's getting me a new one. I'll text you someday, alright?"

Man, you should have seen the disappointment dripping and bleeding out the unhappy face. Naruto hopes he's never looked that sour when a girl's rejected him; it was just too funny and stupid. But he didn't feel sorry, not one bit.

That's when Kiba drives off, grumbling. And Naruto drags along in the opposite direction. Still imagining the sour-puss face of rejection, he keeps snickering. Actually he's starting to feel awful for it, really. Maybe Kiba's not as perverted as he thought; perhaps he imagined the pornographic gaze, Kiba could have been thinking of someone else entirely.

And what if Kiba was just really looking out for him? He really felt awful, then.

Naruto strides right by Sasuke's building, and you'd think he forgot it was Sasuke's office he was passing, except he was just very focused, is all. Too focused.

A woman with stark red hair collides into him.

"Sorry, lady," Naruto automatically supplies, before regaining himself.

She was on a cellphone, and with her bespectacled eyes, gives him a funny eye. She looks torn about something though.

"But I'm right outside Sasuke," she cries into her microphone, "won't you at least have the decency to greet me, your fiancé—but your father said—you're _what_? Already engaged to—who's Naruko?"

Naruto was already walking off when he heard the names Sasuke and Naruko. And all of earth might have been collapsing around, but Naruto would just stand completely stupefied.

Craning a tense neck, he looks back and listens to the one-sided phone conversation. For through the rose-tinted haze, he just couldn't even hear any other noise.

"I'll believe it when I see her," cries out the vivacious woman, pacing all panicky just as Kiba did, "you're being awfully mean. I insist on discussing this in a warmer atmosphere. Let's have lunch together—I'm right here!"

He hasn't moved an inch. Heat of embarrassment melts the rubber soles of his sneakers, and he's glued to the concrete, or something unbelievably out of his control. He just couldn't move. And to be honest, he thought he was going crazy, hearing absurd unreal things.

But then Sasuke darts out of the glass doors. Looking sharp and mean just as the woman described.

Sasuke moved and radiated with purpose, too.

"Karin, listen," Naruto hears his friend say.

You could tell, Sasuke was about to lay news of rejection to her, but then as if by magnetism, Sasuke meets his eyes—his and Sasuke's gaze cross like lightning in a dark sky.

And they stare, firing arrows with twitching brows. The worst part of it, Naruto still couldn't move, and he felt all air-headed, because he's puffing out his breaths like a bull about to charge. Speaking of bulls, just what the hell kind of bull was Sasuke shooting around? Engaged?

Karin follows the trail of vision, and she lays her narrowed scrutiny his way. Big deal. But now he's got two pairs of discerning eyes scraping his flesh. Bigger deal.

"Who is she?" then you could hear boulders smashing, because Karin's voice boomed and wailed, "That's her isn't it? That's Naruko."

And Sasuke's all slick and in control, saying, "Karin next time instead of speaking with my father, you plan with me."

"Answer the damned question," she demands, nearly flinging her cellphone at Naruto, "Who is she? Is that your—your fiancé? Is she Naruko?"

"Yes."

Who knew with one word, that every glass and every mirror in the world would shatter? His reflection would never look the same. Never again.

"Unbelievable for God's sake. You were planning to play with her as soon as I left, weren't you?" Karin rambles like a traumatic soldier of war, as if she'd been mutilated badly.

"If I was, that'd be none of your business," and oh that was a hot one alright. Sasuke really served her.

That's when Karin spins and marches like the crazed soldier all along, straight for Naruto's—almost his god damn neck—but it was close. She snatches his shoulders in a predatory way, like she was a wraith about to suck his soul and promise a ton of pain.

Karin glares up, because Naruto's still a little taller.

"This is another one of his ruses," she accuses, but you could tell she's holding back tears, "_apologize_, will you for God's sakes. For playing along. I can tell you're not—not his girlfriend. There's no way."

Apologize, his ass. He already apologized, though this Karin lady admittedly looked very swell and neat, and he felt real awful. Especially when wetness forms at the corners of her eyes. You had to be an odious creature to make a woman cry, you really did especially if she was all dressed and dolled up—and even worse of a man if you just worsened it, well…

That's what he always thought.

As if sensing she's about to hear no, she scarcely whisks out, "Don't you dare even humor this game of his—you crude—crude witch."

_Game_?

Stop, instinct begs, he needs to stop the tears: like knives plundering into him. How each jewel of grief is a drowning splash to his soul, his woes ebbing only to return with a tsunami.

"Don't cry," sighs Naruto, whuffing out a breath of shock and panic. "Hey, hey I said I was sorry, alright? And Sasuke—yeah Sasuke over there's lying. You see the thing is we're not—"

"Naruko," Sasuke's voice. "Let me take care of this."

Looks up and sees Sasuke even gesturing, with an elegant wave of the hand, to shoo. Even though there's an audience, it still hurt like a sneaky, stabbing machete to be called Naruko by his best friend—practically his own brother.

"Sasuke," he gasps, forgetting about the woman fisting onto his shoulders, "What are you taking care of exactly? For hell's sake, engaged? Are you out of your—"

You could see now, the flash in Sasuke's eyes. The flash begging him to play along. And the flash blinds him, straight into white confusion like clapping thunder and lightning. So his mouth hangs, and his brow twitches over the electrical impulse transmitted: should he play along? Why? Was Sasuke in trouble with his father again? Maybe he ought to help. But then again, something really didn't smell right. Smelled awful like rotting fish, too.

Karin abruptly rips off, and turns to Sasuke. "So she's not your fiancé—"

"Naruko's only saying she's not. Because we haven't made the announcement public yet. There's a formal ceremony planned, right Naruko?"

Never would anyone suspect hesitation and doubt in Sasuke at that moment; except Naruto, who picked up on the subtle cadence of desperation. Like an echo of a distant melody, no one else but a bat could pick up the supersonic waves pleading for emergency aid.

"Yeah," murmurs Naruto, arms hanging limp.

Tucking her cellphone, Karin flattens into deadly sobriety. "Your father never mentioned her."

She pauses, as if to ascertain the gravity. Her bespectacled gaze shines with growing keenness.

"In fact, I don't even believe either of you," which shocks the both of them, fueling her gradating skepticism. "Firstly, her bag has the logo of the same University as us, yet I've never seen her before. She's packed all her clothes, what with her socks popping out the zipper—"

Naruto jabs a fist in the air. "Oi, oi! I just couldn't close it completely, it's not fitting everything in, is all."

"Yes, exactly my deduction," she swiftly returns, bubbling with calm cunning. "You've packed up, off to move into someone else's abode because you just had a bad break up. The split could have been with a boyfriend, a roommate, someone who you used to share a place of living."

Annoyed, Sasuke opens his mouth to extinguish her flames of penetrating analysis. Until she whips her arm out for silence from the audience.

"And the conclusion of my deductions," she declares, now her spectacles reflecting the glaring rays of sun, "is Sasuke's natural opportunism. He found you in the midst of this break-up—must have been through a mutual friend, since you go to Uni with us—with an offer you couldn't refuse. Pretend to be his girlfriend."

Mildly entertained, Naruto raises a brow. "That would be something."

However, she was far from amused. "So how much was it _this time_ Sasuke?" she presses. "A couple grand for her time?"

"It's not pretend," Sasuke asserts, although unconsciously, he fixes his tie.

"I beg to differ. This girl's slow on the uptake, which explains why she's a psych major."

Flabbergasted, Naruto's eyes widen and he nearly shouts, "How—how the heck did you know that?"

"I didn't. I simply guessed. Typical air-headed blonde, rich enough to attend, would of course take the easiest route possible. Thanks for confirming, though."

She turns on her heel, although then, she stops to say one final remark.

"Oh and Sasuke? Next time, I'd hire a woman with a degree in acting."

Her tears long gone, and her hair swishing in a harsh pendulum, she storms off to the street curb. In less than a second, faster than you could even breathe, she hails a cab and slams the door shut after her.

Now, just them shifting foot to foot, side by side.

"I like her," admits Naruto, eyes following the exhaust of the vanishing taxi. "I really, really like her."

A faint smirk passes over the otherwise blank expression, as Sasuke tucks his hands into pockets.

"She called you a—"

"Crude witch, I know. I thought it was cute. She goes to Uni with me?"

In fact, he couldn't get her flaring red hair out his mind. She burns with feisty embers, leaving the ground she tread upon with a trail of fiery roses. And her spectacles enhances her beauty, truly, with this frame of intellect and confidence. How could Sasuke ever think to pass her up?

Unnerved by Naruto's sudden interest, Sasuke veers the subject away.

"What are you doing here?" Especially gesturing at the bag strapped over Naruto, he adds, "Did something—what did Kiba do?"

However, that's when the tsunami returns. Of epiphany. Stiffening, Naruto slices the air with a thinning gaze.

"I'm your fiancé? Really?"

"Naruto…"

"Oh I'm Naruto now?"

"Don't get—"

"Who will I be tomorrow, or in the next damned hour, huh Sasuke?" he really wants a cigarette right now, light up and calm his nerves, "You can't use me like that. Hire a god damned actress like Karin suggested for crying out loud. You could afford one anyway, you know?"

Sasuke leans over. "Would you just listen to me, dummy? We're not really engaged, or anything."

"Of course we aren't. I knew that."

"But I really need this favor from you."

"No. God damn it no," Naruto shakes his head madly, at the implications, "Like I said, have someone else play this game of charades."

"You're the only one who could."

Was this really happening? Naruto stares at his friend like it's the first time he's ever laid eyes on him.

"Sasuke what the hell do I look like to you? I can't pretend to be your…I can't even say it for hell's sake. And besides why are you so hot to have a—a fiancé? Your father, again?"

"Yeah. But if you would just stall for me—Naruto," you could hear a strangled noise from Sasuke, and the shadows flitting in the otherwise perfect expression, "Father's not just sending marriage proposals anymore. He's arranging an actual marriage. I can't. I'm not ready."

Naruto looks around, checking if anyone's listening in as if the conversation's between spies.

"And Itachi?" he asks, "Let Itachi marry that fine, swell looking Karin then."

"You know my brother's celibate."

"Wish Kiba were too," he jokes under his breath, only for Sasuke to harden.

Dark, thick stormy clouds hover over the dainty brow. But before Sasuke could speak, Naruto intercedes. This is the moment.

"Itachi called me, y'know," Naruto says, tipping up with squinting eyes, "Said…he gave you something. Something meant for me."

"Oh?" feigning indifference, Sasuke turns slightly away.

Races. His heart booms. "Itachi gave you something that could help me." When silence persists, his skin rakes with nervous itches. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sure they were in the middle of a fight. But for Sasuke to withhold a potential remedy….

"There's nothing to tell." Sasuke swiftly steals past. "Because you're not getting anything."

And with that, his heart's hanging by thin strings: world's upside down. Toppling. He chases after, and tries to reel the other to a stop, grabbing firmly by the shoulder. The moment he digs his fingers into Sasuke, however, he earns a look of brief surprise.

"Sasuke, you're kidding, right?" Because Itachi couldn't be right about Sasuke, just couldn't. "Show me what he gave you. I want to decide, not you."

"How about later," comes the dismissal.

It was the perfect brush off, because he believed. He trusts. Practically unquestionable to consider otherwise. Later today, his best friend will reveal the chance of returning to normalcy again.

"But could you tell me what it was, he gave, at least," prompts Naruto, and his eyes must plead with depth, for Sasuke tears away.

Because if Sasuke wanted to avoid the discussion altogether, he evaded the bullets masterfully. By suggesting they go to the bar, Sasuke leads them across the street, and they appeared to everyone like a couple on a date. With how infatuated Naruto felt with the proposal, the offer, he obliges. Momentarily forgetting.

Indeed they sit at this bar—the theme's always sports here. Though they're underage, this particular establishment didn't give a hoot, what with it being a lovely, yet empty weekday morning. And especially because Sasuke's a fantastic tipper, you'd want to serve Sasuke too if you could. Make a whole week's salary in just one tip from the guy, it was a sinful prodigal side of Sasuke that Naruto secretly admires.

Holding their shot glasses up, they both nod. This was their fourth round. Seeing straight, going back to work, caring about the next ten minutes, or the next day—was all lost. Now, all they care for was each other and feeling dandy.

"What're we toasting to, ya bastard?"

"To a happy engagement of course," responds Sasuke, with a wry smile.

Despite his heart wrenching, Naruto grins. You couldn't possibly resist when Sasuke smiles.

"How about—" before he could continue, he's shaking in laughter, "to a happy bromance?"

_Clang_.

Their glasses collided the way their eyes clashed.

They throw back the drinks, with pleasure.

That's when through a drunken haze, Naruto slurs out, "Listen, I don't—I'm realizing now I don't have the tolerance, like I used to."

"I'll have us driven back home with me—"

"And I'm going to Jiraiya's, you know? Did'ja know the old man's moved into this amazing mansion. Ten thousand square feet in the outskirts of the city. Not bad, eh?"

Suddenly the jovial air thickens into war smoke.

"Jiraiya's?" echoes Sasuke, and anyone with eyes and ears could sense the rising tide of dark anger.

"Yeah he'll have a room for me. Fact is, Jiraiya and Itachi used to be ol' monks or something in this good ol' monastery," and man he's drunk, he couldn't shut up, and this body was god awfully vulnerable, "And so Itachi calls up Jiraiya in my favor. Tells my Godpa some secret code. So guess what? You Itachi, and Jiraiya believe me. I'm not as alone as we think."

Sasuke lowers more and more, as if weighed by deep troubling thoughts.

"I don't understand you," finally his friend says.

"Whatt'ya mean?"

"Just…just come home with me, Naruto."

The bartender comes round asking if they want their glasses filled again. But Sasuke can't tear or end their clashing gazes—as if his friend's searching and probing. Problem is, Naruto's too damned drunk, looking at Sasuke was like looking at broken film. Things just kept reeling upwards even if they'd just be sitting still in reality.

"No Sasuke, I won't," he answers finally, although the woman's voice is talking for him, she sounded nice.

'Naruko' sounds really nice, though. She's not half bad. Maybe because he's drunk, but he wants to hear more Naruko right now. His mind's voice doesn't have a pitch, but eventually the woman's voice fuses with his thoughts. He just hopes Frankenstein or anything weird won't be born with this fusion. So he talks.

"I wouldn't want to burden you," he hears Naruko speak for him, and if he wasn't looking at Sasuke, he'd believe that a beautiful girl sat beside, "and I oughta work and live on my own, you know? I can't just shack up with you. I mean, we're not really engaged for God's sake."

"But I insist, Naruto, I really do mean it. We have an extra room and—"

"Live with you, what, forever? Are you kidding? I can't depend on your help forever."

"Don't start this now," hisses Sasuke, weighed down, with how his hair's sticking at the face and practically keeling over in pain. "You need my help. You saw Kiba didn't you? You saw I was right. I'm right about this too."

Glaring at his friend from the peripheries, he only vaguely perceives the desperation, and he murmurs, "What are you saying now? What are you right about?"

"I'm saying Jiraiya's worse, Naruto. I'd rather you stay with the mutt than Jiraiya, you hear? But you're better off with me."

Now he's really feeling horrible. Because somehow the accusations sting like poisonous darts.

"That's my Godfather you're slighting right now. My Godpa. He knows it's _me_. He wouldn't even consider. You're all just judging him by superficial shitty impressions, and it's pissing me off."

They don't discuss anymore. In fact, Sasuke hails a taxi for them to take moments after paying the tab. After all, when Naruto's made up his mind, you couldn't negotiate really. He's determined, and making him give up was wishful thinking.

But the confidence disappears. What if Sasuke's right too? About Jiraiya?

The thought hurts, and you'd think he's clutching a gun shot wound, with how he grabs at his abdomen. As if he's holding in the blood splatter and all, but he's not. The drunken nausea and the painful thought that Jiraiya would try something—but that's just the biggest bull he could fathom.

"Sasuke," finally he says in the ride, head lolling from magnificent stupor.

He feels Sasuke's eyes snap onto him, digging with curiosity.

"I'm going to attend class, y'know. As Naruto. My stupid advisor couldn't figure the difference, and I a'ready found a dojo to participate in."

"Naruto…you can't fight for the life of you right now—"

"I can fight. And I can go to school. Don't be a god damned misogynist."

Somehow the second he says that, they're both chuckling. Really, they were just having a ball, and you should have been in the cab ride too. See the driver look all kinds of confused, and shooting incredulous glances through the mirrors—it was all funny. Just imagining what sort of conclusion the driver's heading towards. Naruto elbow jabs his friend's kidneys nonstop, and Sasuke'd just shake his head in ill restrained humor.

But when they finally reached Jiraiya's playboy mansion, Sasuke's humor vanishes.

"I'll see you later," assures Naruto, stepping out with his bags, "and don't forget to bring that thing Itachi promised."

"Sure," bites out Sasuke.

"Don't forget."

"You said that already."

"Don't forget, Sasuke," he croons, rolling his eyes even.

Waves goodbye, and that's that. Never noticing or bothering with the dark shadows flitting across his friend's expression. Surges with excitement though, that he'll get to tour Jiraiya's new luxurious home.

* * *

Two blocks later, Sasuke's voice booms in the confines of the cab.

"Turn around."

Double-taking, the driver up front whips a demanding glance through the rear-view mirror.

"What?"

"Back to where we just were," explains Sasuke, with calm derision, slowly as if he were speaking with a second grader, "Turn back, now."

Feels the inertia of the U-turn, and yet Sasuke's eyes remained transfixed onto one image: the drunken gait of his best friend.


End file.
